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“AS THE BISHOP SAW IT.” 



FROM AMERICA TO ROME. 



LETTERS OF THE 



RIGHT REV. C. H. BORGESS , D. D., 

Late Bishop of Detroit, Describing His Trip to 
Rome in 1877. 



EDITED BY 

VERY REV. FRANK A. O’BRIEN. 



PUBLISHED FOR THE 

Benefit of Borgess Hospital. 



PAULY, FUCHS & CO., 

Detroit, Mich. 



(A >• v- 



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TRIBUTE 

OF 

FILIAL RESPECT AND GRATITUDE 

TO THE PASTOR OF MY EARLY YEARS, TO WHOM AFTER GOD 
I OWE THE GRACE OF MY VOCATION TO 
THE PRIESTHOOD, 

THE RIGHT REVEREND MONSIGNORE, 

EDWARD JOOS 9 

VICAR GENERAL OF THE DIOCESE OF DETROIT, 

IS THIS VOLUME AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED. 

F. A. O’B. 



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PEEFAOE. 



Right Rev. Caspar Henry Borgess, D. D., the late 
Bishop of Detroit, Michigan, visited Rome in 1877, in 
compliance with the General Law of the Church, 
which requires, at certain stated times, an account of 
the administration of a Bishop. 

He was accompanied by his Chancellor, Very 
Rev. Henry J. H. Schutjes, several clergymen of his 
Diocese, and the venerable Mr. J. B. Mauntel, of St. 
Louis, Mo., a warm personal friend. After his death, 
a complete file of his letters, descriptive of this trip, 
were found. They were deemed worthy of publica- 
tion. It is our pleasure to present them to his friends. 

f. a. o’b. 



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COITTEITTS. 



LETTER I. 

Outward Bound 9 

LETTER II. 

Paris — Louvain — The University — The City Hall 
— Visit to the Convent of the Sacred Heart. 13 

LETTER III. 

Eating houses — Night in a foreign car — Lourdes 

— The Grotto 19 

LETTER IV. 

Rome — St. Peter’s — The tomb of the Apostles.. 27 

LETTER V. 

Rome — Golden jubilee of His Holiness Pope Pius 
IX . 34 

LETTER VI. 

Rotne — St. Peter’s of the chains — St. Clement’s — 

St. John Lateran — Scala Sancta — St. Paul’s 
of the three fountains 38 

LETTER VII. 

Rome — The audience with His Holiness Pope Pius 

IX — The Quirrinal — St. Mary Major’s 47 

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LETTER VIII. 

Rome — Basilica of the Holy Cross — Catacombs 

— Church of the Holy Trinity 56 

LETTER IX. 

Rome — Tivoli — The people. 66 

LETTER X. 

Naples — Pompeii — Mt. Vesuvius... 72 

LETTER XI. 

Venice — Loretto — Peasants 82 

LETTER XII. 

Bardonecchia — Mt. Cenis tunnel — Milan Cathe- 
dral 89 

LETTER XIII. 

Geneva — Its Cathedral — Basel — Stuttgart — Frie- 

burg — Ulm — Augsburg — Aschaff enburg 96 

LETTER XIV. 

Mainz — St. Christopher’s Church — Rev. Graf Von 
Gallen — The Cathedral 108 

LETTER XV. 

Munich — Franciscan Church — Its Art galleries.. 114 

LETTER XVI. 

Cologne — Coblentz — Bonn — The Cathedral — The 
Holy Magi — St. Peter’s Church — St. Ursula 
— St. Gereon 120 

LETTER XVII. 

Osnabruck — Cathedral — Munster — Telgte — Wesel. 130 

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LETTER XVIII. 

Amsterdam — Its Cathedral and Market — Rotter- 
dam — Erasmus — The Hague 137 

LETTER XIX. 

Hertogenbosch — Orthe 148 

LETTER XX. 

Antwerp — Rubens — Art galleries 154 

LETTER XXL 

Brussels — St. Gudule’s Church — Tournay — Rt. 

Rev. Dr. Dumont — Bois d’ Haine — Its Pastor 
— Louise Lateau 160 

LETTER XXII. 

Louise Lateau 174 

LETTER XXIII. 

Ghent — The Beguinage — Bruges — Relic of the 

Precious Blood 189 

LETTER XXIV. 

London — The Churches — Cardinal Manning 199 

LETTER XXV. 

Liverpool 205 

LETTER XXVI. 

Dublin — Intemperance — Cardinal Cullen — Father 
Burke — Glasnevin — All Hallows — Holy Cross 
College — Industrial School 210 

LETTER XXVII. 

Drogheda — Dundalk — Belfast — Shank’s Hill.... 219 

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LETTER XXVIII. 

The new Cathedral — The great collection 228 

LETTER XXIX. 

Armagh — St. Patrick’s Cathedral 234 

LETTER XXX. 

Mullingar — Athlone — Galway 240 

LETTER XXXI. 

Ennis — Limerick 248 

LETTER XXXII. 

Cork — Killarney — Mallow 253 

LETTER XXXIII. 

Blarney Castle — Homeward bound 261 



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“AS THE BISHOP SAW IT.” 



i. 

On Board the Steamer “ City of Berlin ) 

May 4, 1877. j 

Six full days have been spent in the enjoyment 
of “life on the ocean wave.” This moment many 
persons are busy describing the scenes and inci- 
dents which have so pleasantly transpired among 
the passengers, now almost feeling toward one 
another as if they were one great family. Our 
good old friend, feeling confident of a favorable 
report about himself, requests me to write to the 
folks at home, the compliance with which affords 
me great pleasure. The cold, rainy and gloom* 
weather gave us a dismal start from New York 
on last Saturday, pre-shadowing a speedy invita- 
tion of the sea-faring ordeal, so generally and 
justly anticipated by all who have not beeh 
taught the contrary by experience. 

It continued all day Sunday. The sea being 
pretty rough, the representation on deck and at 
meals was rather slim. Among those who ven- 



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10 "AS THE BISHOP SAW IT." 

tured out into the fresh air were many who 
looked, in the words of a fine old gentleman from 
Kentucky, “as if all their relations had died.” 
Mr. M. has so far disappointed himself and his 
friends. He felt sure that he would be a victim 
of the prevailing contagion. He complained of 
feeling dizzy and even now will not venture 
enjoying the grand swing of the steamer from 
aloft, yet so far he has been prompt in obeying 
the breakfast, dinner and supper bell. We have 
the honor of the company of the Right Reverend 
Bishops Krautbauer, of Green Bay, and Seiden- 
i busch, of Northern Minnesota, Rev. Messrs. 
Lemagie, Griffin, Edwards, Kearney, and Abbot 
Edelbrock — a clerical party of twelve on board 
the steamer. 

There is a lively discussion going on now 
about the arrival of the latest news and very nat- 
urally everybody crowded up to the reporter, 
who gives the minutest details about the school 
of whales seen this morning. 

“That’s too bad!” impatiently exclaimed one 
of the lady passengers, “I’ve almost strained my 
eyes looking for them, ever since we are on the 
ocean, and there, they are gone!” I confess that 
I sympathized with the many, and shared some in 
the disappointment of not having risen at an 
earlier hour for the enjoyment of the sight. But 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



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stepping aside, I inquired of one of the tars about 
the whale story, who said: “No — oh it was a 
kind of black fish that looks some like a whale.” 

But the whale story having been fairly started . 
gained credence, until many believed that though 
they could not see the creatures, yet “the stream 
of water sent up as the whales plunged along 
left no doubt of their identity-.” Only a few 
enjoyed the privilege of the sight, and the affair 
began to remind one of ghost stories, the appa- 
ritions being the gift of a certain ominous class. 

At sea the most insignificant events seem to 
amuse everybody, and become the topic of the 
day. The vessels and steamers which pass by 
are watched with marvellous delight. The great- 
est number which we saw in one day was eleven 
vessels and two steamers. There being so many 
individuals engaged in drawing a pen picture of 
the voyage, the company, the sayings and doings, 
the joys and sorrows, the likes and dislikes, and 
the innumerable items noted, I fancy that, if they 
could be collected, and a copy presented to 
every one on board, the exhibit would be of the 
most amusing kind, and a sure cure for dyspepsia. 

Much of the time is spent, on board a ship, in 
walking on the upper deck. The grouping of 
parties, the serious mien of some, the gay and 
merry deportment of others, and the general dis- 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



play of dispositions and character, is not the least 
interesting study on board a steamer. The same 
observations may be made in the smoking room, 
where every table is occupied by card players 
and contestants in the game of chess or checkers. 
It is, evidently, a little world of a peculiar type, 
in which good humor prevails. 

Kind feelings are sumptuously nursed, and the 
friendship toward one another seems to be 
stamped with more than ordinary sincerity. 

“We are making good time,” says Capt. Ken- 
nedy, “and prospects bid fair that we will make 
a quick voyage across the ocean.” These words 
cheer every passenger with the delightful antici- 
pation of the pleasure of soon seeing land. * * 

c. H. B. 



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II. 



Paris, May 12, i 8 jj. 

At half past nine o’clock last evening we 
arrived in this city, which our friend declares to 
be the greatest city in the world. Since my last, 
mailed in Queenstown, we have paid a railroad 
visit to the cities of Liverpool, London and 
Dover in England, Ostende, Bruges, Ghent, Brus- 
sels and Louvain in Belgium, besides the many 
cities, towns and villages along the railroad line, 
which, I think, average about one in every mile’s 
distance in those countries. In England, as well 
as in Belgium and France, the country through 
which the railroad passes is one continuous gar 
den in the highest state of cultivation, every foot 
of soil being utilized to the best advantage. 
The people in the gardens and fields at the early 
hour of four in the morning, hoeing, weeding, 
etc., bear evidence of the care and perseverance 
used in making sure, with God’s blessing, of an 
abundant harvest. The farm houses are gener- 
ally constructed of brick, one story high, a few 
have a garret story; some of the older houses are 

built of wood, plastered with clay, which are gen- 

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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



erally roofed with straw and frequently beauti- 
fied with a vigorous growth of moss, evincing a 
grand old age. They are ordinarily surrounded 
by the stables, barns and out-houses for farm pur- 
poses, the whole forming a square of greater 
or less dimensions, according to the means or 
wants of the owners, and have the appearance 
of simplicity and comfort. The spring of the 
year, it is true, exhibits the gardens and fields to 
their best advantage. The foliage is fresh, and 
developing its full vigor; the youthful, thriving 
and beautiful appearance of nature in festive 
robes, lends it a charm which challenges the 
greatest admiration. But industry and skill, add- 
ing to this grandeur, makes it as near as possible 
to our idea — an earthly paradise. 

,Rev. Fr. A., being desirous of visiting his aged 
parent, who resides in the village of Nethen, all 
our party cheerfully consented to retire for a 
few days into solitude. Such it was, indeed, for 
every one but Rev. Fr. A., who had the great 
happiness of embracing his beloved father, and 
being in the midst of his brothers and all the 
dear ones of the family. 

Our arrival soon became an event in the vil- 
lage. The surprise of the few who had first seen 
us walking on foot from the station, braving 
the rain and mud, led to the inquiry and soon to 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W ITT 15 

the discovery of the character and mission of the 
strangers, and young and old continued on the 
watch for a more satisfactory examination, as 
any one of us would venture out of doors. Our 
proficiency in the Flemish language was insuffi- 
cient for us to enter into a brisk conversation 
with the people, consequently we shared the 
usual misfortune of being supposed to be deaf, 
and everybody addressing us believed it neces- 
sary to shout at us, and we were obliged to bow, 
and smile graciously in response to this torture. 

Every country has its own peculiar manners 
and customs. This is proved strikingly true in 
this village, where the manners, dress and gen- 
eral deportment of the people are very simple, 
and the hypocrisy of fashionable life, called civil- 
ization, has not poisoned the innocent heart. 
On the Feast of the Ascension, we had the hap- 
piness of officiating in the church dedicated to 
St. John the Baptist, and built more than a 
century ago. It is probable that devotion and 
curiosity united in bringing such a large crowd 
to the seven o’clock mass, the church being well 
filled; but the Sisters of Providence, who teach 
in the Parochial school, were the only communi- 
cants during the mass. 

The ceremonial observed by the people during 
divine service is peculiar to the country, and can 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



only be edifying to those who are accustomed to 
it, especially the rattle of the chairs, used 
both for kneeling and sitting, whipped about as 
the purpose required, and the use made of them. 

Louvain is but a small city, though it hath 
ancient and modern renown in literature. The 
first University, established by Pope Martin V, 
December 9, 1425, was formally opened on the 
7th of September, 1426, and was frequented by 
6,000 students in the sixteenth century. After 
the occupation of Belgium by the French, the 
University was closed on the 25th of October, 
1797, the library scattered and the property con- 
signed to the National Domain. The present 
Catholic University was opened on the 1st of 
December, 1835, with 261 students, and is sup- 
ported by the voluntary contributions of the 
clergy and laity of Belgium. St. Peter’s church 
is a truly beautiful structure of Gothic archi- 
tecture, but sadly in need of repairs. The sev- 
eral altars in it are masterpieces of workmanship. 
Two of the paintings, in particular, reveal, at a 
glance, that the genius and hand of an artist 
created them. Three others, said to be still 
more artistic, were curtained from view, my com- 
panion remarking: “Ah! You can see, but you 
must pay.” We visited St. Michael’s, and the 
church of the Jesuit Fathers, which are both 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 17 

handsome church edifices, but of modern date, 
and built in the Roman style. The library of 
the University is immense, and contains some of 
the rarest treasures, but time did not permit us 
to give them more than a hurried inspection. 
The city hall in Louvain, immediately opposite 
St. Peter’s church, is alone worth a visit to the 
continent. It is a genuine Gothic masterpiece of 
architecture; majestic in appearance; a synopsis 
of the history of the Bible, from the day of cre- 
ation to the era of redemption in the statuary on 
the outer walls, not of ordinary merit, but mag- 
nificent in every detail; and from the foundation 
of the building to the very summit every inch of 
space is occupied by such a statue, as far as the 
ornaments of Gothic architecture would permit. 
The whole looks catholic and sublime. 

Having attended to the necessary business 
transactions in Paris, we lost no time in visiting 
St. Magdalen’s church, so much and so generally 
lauded by travelers on the continent. We ma}’ 
be wanting in the appreciation of the sublime, 
(for tastes differ) but the edifice did not impress 
us as we anticipated and we went away without 
the least rapture over the grandeur seen. We 
continued our drive to the crystal palace and 
around the beautiful public square; saw the 
grand hotel, “Des Invalides,” and paid a visit to 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W ITT 



Madame Hardy in the “ Mother House” of the 
Ladies of the Sacred Heart, which is opposite 
the Hotel des Invalides. We accepted the invi- 
tation of saying mass in the Convent chapel on 
Sunday morning, and will have the pleasure of 
seeing the nine American Sisters after breakfast. 
My traveling companions accompanied me to the 
Novitiate of the Ladies of the Sacred Heart, 
which is about six miles from the Mother 
House, yet within the environs of the city. The 
two American novices seemed delighted to see 
us; the inquiries about home and friends endless; 
and “ supremely happy in enjoying an American 
conversation,” as one of them remarked. Both 
assured us of their perfect happiness in religion, 
and that they anxiously looked forward to the 
day of their final consecration to the Divine 
Spouse in their religious profession. 

To-morrow evening we start from here for 
Lourdes, our company from Holland having 
arrived. It will consist of six priests and three 
laymen. Adieu! c. h. b. 



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III. 



Lourdes, May 15, iSjj. 

Having left Paris in the evening we had 
our first experience in “premiere classe” cars. 
The American sleeping car, though justly consid- 
ered a luxury at home, is only truly appreciated 
when keenly awake at four o’clock in the morn- 
ing, the rocking headache and cruel fatigue, are 
the poor consolation that the worry of the night 
is nearly over. It is delightful to hear the brake- 
man sing out, “Bordeaux!” 

“Fifteen minutes for refreshments!” sounds 
even more agreeable, and all hasten into the buf- 
fet to enjoy a breakfast which stands smoking 
hot on the table. One of the waiters, standing 
on an elevation in the room, sings out: “Encore 
dix minutes!” and again, “Encore cing minutes!” 
giving the passenger the warning for the train, 
thus avoiding the inhuman hurry of swallowing 
down the meal as it often happens in America. 

In this portion of France the cultivation of the 
grape-vine is carried on by everybody on a larger 
or smaller scale. This industry seems to be the 
great harvest on which their prosperity or pov- 

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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



erty entirely depends. The soil, from Bordeaux 
to Dax, is evidently very poor, and it reminds 
us strongly of the northern portion of Michigan, 
along the railroad line north of Bay City, where 
the “jack-pine” flourishes, which also abounds 
here. But even the “jack -pine” is utilized by 
the economical French, every tree being tapped 
for resin, like the maple trees at home. From 
Dax to Lourdes the track winds through a 
mountainous country, and the scenery is as 
grand as it is varied. Viewing the magnificent 
near yet distant snow-capped mountains, and the 
superb valleys, hundreds of feet below the train 
in which we are, a thrill of awe steals over us 
in the very admiration of Nature’s grandeur. 

We are in Lourdes. It is but a small town, 
having from 4,000 to 5,000 inhabitants; narrow, 
winding, dirty streets; dingy-looking houses and 
only one clean, comfortable hotel, which has been 
but lately built. The omnibus driver seemed 
anxious in having us go elsewhere, but we insist- 
ing on going to the one nearest the grotto. We 
settled down in the new and only decent-looking 
house in town, — Hotel de la Grotte. 

Having in part disposed of the cargo of dust, 
and being refreshed by a hearty dinner, we 
repaired to the grotto at 4:30 p. M. It was pour- 
ing rain. The'moment a person steps out of the 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT.'’ 



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gates, on the road to the grotto, he is sur- 
rounded by the venders of wax candles and other 
articles of devotion, “ Pour la grotte ” and this 
importunate nonsense (as it seemed to me) con- 
tinued, most the whole way to the sanctuary of 
miracles. From the bridge across the river the 
ascent to the grand church, called the “ Basilica 
of Lourdes,” and built by the side of the moun- 
tains opposite the town, begins. Following the 
road for some distance, you meet the cross-roads, 
the right of which leads to the grotto. Descend- 
ing, one soon hears the murmuring of the mystic 
spring of the miraculous waters of Lourdes. 
The cave at the foot of the mountains and in the 
rocks is the chapel of nature into which Berna- 
dette retired to speak in prayer with God, and 
to enjoy, in this solitude, the company of 
Heaven’s host, who surround His throne of eter- 
nal glory. This cave chapel remains intact, and 
has but received a plain stone wall, mounted by 
an iron railing at the entrance. It is small; — 
fifteen to twenty persons kneeling in it, crowd it. 
In the center stands a circular chandelier, on 
which the smaller votive candles burn, and 
toward the right side, near the rock, there are 
several rows of very large votive wax candles 
burning. Near the right angle corner is a pretty 
large, almost round, opening in the rock of the 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



cave. Through this opening the Blessed Virgin 
Mary appeared to Bernadette, and from there 
the statue representing the Immaculate Mother, 
as she appeared, is now seen by the pilgrim 
kneeling in the grotto. At the very first 
moment that one views this miraculous Grotto, 
the eye rests on the many, many trophies 
deposited there by the afflicted who returned to 
their homes and friends restored to perfect 
health. The walking-canes, the crutches, the 
braces, the trusses, the innumerable other articles 
which science has invented in support of ailing 
humanity, line the walls and decorate ever}? 
available space in the grotto, and publish the 
miracles wrought through the intercession of the 
Immaculate Mother of God. In the right angle 
corner of the cave, and to the left of the above- 
mentioned opening, the miraculous spring ap- 
peared, and has since been conducted along the 
semi-circle of the Cave to the front on the left 
side, where it pours forth a heavy stream of 
water into a stone basin prepared for that 
purpose. 

Here the V. Rev. Superior of the congregation 
of the Priests of the Mission, as they are called, 
who are in charge of the Basilica and of the 
Grotto met us and invited us up to the church. 
We began to climb the steep ascent in the midst 



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of a pouring rain, and entering the basement of 
the church, we saw the row of confessionals, and 
came to the altar, which stands immediately over 
the immense rocks — the very spot on which the 
Blessed Virgin appeared, and beneath which the 
miraculous spring pours forth. Before this altar, 
as well as in the Grotto, we found several persons 
offering the yearning of an afflicted heart, or the 
emotions of burning gratitude to the Throne of 
Mercy, through the intercession of the Immacu- 
late Mother of God. Ascending into the Basilica 
or church proper, we rejoiced to see it decorated 
with banners, from the peak of the' ceiling to the 
ground, carried and deposited there by pilgrims. 
Our American flag occupies a place on the Gos- 
pel side above the main altar. The banner 
offered by the first pilgrimage from America is 
suspended on the same side, nearly in the center 
of the church. On the grand arch spanning the 
main aisle and over the grand altar the names of 
the twelve apostles are inscribed in large letters, 
formed of hearts of gold, the votive offerings of 
persons who had received favors and blessings, 
through the intercession of Our Lady of Lourdes. 
On the morning of May 15th, at 6 o’clock, I had 
the happiness of offering the Holy Sacrifice of the 
mass on the altar in the basement of the church 
as stated, immediately over the grotto, V. Rev. 



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24 "AS THE BISHOP SA VV IT. T 

S. and Rev. A. saying mass at the same time on 
the altars at the right and left of this altar. 
Many of the votive offerings on this altar are 
costly and superb; the three altar cards are 
encircled with a wreath of large diamonds and 
other precious stones. Having secured a few sil- 
ver medals of Our Lady of Lourdes, we returned 
to the cave chapel — the grotto — dipped them 
into the water of the spring, placed them on the 
rock on which the Blessed Virgin appeared and 
performed our farewell devotion. On account of 
the extensive tour before us, we could only ven- 
ture on filling a small flask with the water from 
the fountain of Lourdes. 

The Blessed Virgin appeared eighteen times to 
Bernadette Soubirous — on the nth and the 15th 
of February, 1858; from the 18th of February to 
the 4th of March every day, except two days; on 
the 25th of March, on the 5th of April and the 
1 6th of July. The Blessed Virgin said to Berna- 
dette: “Will you do me the favor of coming here 
every day for two weeks? I do not promise to 
make you happy in this world, but in the next. 
I desire people to come here to pray for sinners. 
You will go and tell the priest to build a chapel 
here; I desire that processions come to this place; 
that people drink of the water of this fountain.” 

On the 25th of March the Blessed Virgin said: 
“I am the Immaculate.” 



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At eleven o’clock a. m. of the 15th of May we 
started by rail for Toulouse, where we arrived at 
six o’clock in the evening. The road winding 
through the valleys of the huge chain of mount- 
ains, this trip become exceedingly interesting. 
At the distance we distinctly saw the grand peaks 
of the Pyrenees in Spain, appearing like majestic 
icicles, defying the rays of the sun, as well as the 
dark and angry looking clouds which encircled 
and rolled over them. The country does not 
seem to be fertile, yet the cultivation of the 
grape continues. 

Passing through the city of St. Julien, whose 
wines are relished in Europe as well as in Amer- 
ica, we may conclude that the harvest will bring 
a reign of prosperity, if nothing unforseen hap- 
pens. In Toulouse we have had time to visit 
three churches, which, owing to the May devo- 
tion, or Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, 
were well attended. At 6 o’clock a. m., on the 
1 6th of May we started for Marseilles; but we 
were not fortunate enough to arrive at an early 
hour, it being 10 p. M. The darkness did not 
permit us the pleasure of seeing this renowned 
city, and the pressure of time, aiming to be in 
Rome on the 18th, did not permit a delay. We 
enjoyed but an hour’s delay in Genoa, and began 
our “night journey” for Rome, and being eight 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA IV ITT 



persons in that miserable coach, crowded to 
excess, every attempt at rest proved a sad 
delusion. Arriving in the Eternal City at 2 
p. M. on the 1 8th of *May, we were considerably 
“used up,” covered with dust, and hungry as 
wolves, having only “two minutes” for breakfast. 

C. H. B. 



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IV. 



St. Peter’s, Rome, May 20 , i 8 jj. 

Of course, we first attended to our official bus- 
iness, which prompted our visit to this city. 
Very Rev. Pizzoti, General of the Congregation 
of the Precious Blood, had kindly secured well- 
furnished rooms for us, at but a short distance 
from his convent and about the same from the 
American college, No. 32 via Marroniti. Call- 
ing at the Propaganda yesterday at 4 p. m., we 
learned, to our regret, that His Eminence, Car- 
dinal Franchi, was absent, but our card sent to 
the Secretary of the Propaganda soon introduced 
us to this estimable functionary. He received 
the Diocesan report, treated us most cordially, 
and kindly offered to present our requests to the 
Holy Father at the audience of this Sunday 
evening (May 20). 

Our next visit was to St. Peters. Much, 
indeed, has been written about this greatest of 
the temples of Christendom, and our anticipations 
were not within ordinary limits, but the reality 
which now loomed up before us exceeded the 
most sanguine expectations, as we stood in the 

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court-yard of the rotunda, and for the first time 
rested our eyes, in admiration, on this grand 
structure. The impression made on the mind at 
this moment no pen can describe, no words can 
picture — one and all exclaimed “It is grand! it 
is magnificent! it is majestic! ” yet they have not 
expressed what the eyes see, and what is now 
being pictured on the mind of the beholders. 
The double array of massive columns, of charm- 
ing proportions and superb workmanship, upon 
which the portico of the building rests, with the 
row of statuary surmounting the whole, challenge 
your attention. One feels as if he were planted 
on the marble pavements, and had no more to 
enjoy. The procession of strangers, who have 
assembled in this city for the festivities of the 
fiftieth anniversary of the Episcopacy of our 
Holy Father, Pius IX, and who are confidently 
estimated at over 40,000 in number, advancing 
toward the doorway of the great vestibule of 
the church, we are drawn along with the 
crowd, yet follow involuntarily. We stop in 
breathless admiration at the bas relief synopsis of 
history which ornaments the entry into the vesti- 
bule. Having passed the huge curtain of leather 
hangings in the doorway, and offered the tribute 
eagerly looked for by the beggars, who struggle 
with one another for the privilege of lifting this 



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curtain, the immense vacant space in which you 
stand surprises you. Looking to the right and 
left, it would seem four good-sized American 
churches could stand in this vestibule, without, in 
the least, crowding the space. You stand at 
once before and in the midst of the greatest 
stationary panorama of art and beauty, the 
four walls and ceilings presenting the fresco 
paintings and the statuary of the old masters, 
whose genius and skill have been the admiration 
of centuries, and to-day fill the soul with the 
noblest emotions. You look, and look again, at 
the one and the other, and look again at the 
whole, with ever-increasing pleasure. But the 
never-ending procession, passing in and out, 
invites you to follow into the temple itself. Here 
at the threshold you halt, and, having viewed the 
exterior as a whole, you now try to gain a pic- 
ture of the interior as a whole ; but the grandeur, 
the sublime, the majestic, so swiftly hurry into 
view, that the detailed examination of each church 
within this great temple, forces itself upon you. 
It is too much of a treat for one day; a week 
would hardly be sufficient time to enjoy and 
appreciate it all. The building in the interior is 
607 feet long; the transept forming the cross, 445 
feet; the width of the nave, 89 feet; the height of 
the nave, 150 feet; the width of each of the side 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



aisles, 21 feet, and the height 47 feet; each of the 
four great pillars supporting the dome, over the 
center of which rises the cross, is 232 feet in cir- 
cumference; the height of the dome, 458 feet. 
St. Peter’s covers five acres of ground. Looking 
at the high altar in the center aisle at a distance, 
one feels greatly disappointed. It appears so 
small under the bronze canopy, yet it is really 
1 20 feet high. Had I been asked to guess, my 
answer would have been that the extreme height 
might be from 30 to 35 feet. 

It is amusing to see the surprise of everyone 
who has seen the little plump white angels hold- 
ing the holy water font, standing at the base of 
the second grand arch, finding them upon 
approaching, to be of such gigantic size that a 
small sized person cannot easily put their hand 
in the basin. Having passed the third and 
fourth grand arches you stand before a crown of 
lights encircling the “Confessio Sti Petri.” One 
hundred and fifty lamps are constantly kept burn- 
ing here, but this number is greatly increased on 
account of the festivities. The visitor kneeling 
down to offer his prayers, is now “Ad Limina 
Apostolorum.” From the middle of this circular 
balustrade, he descends by a marble stair to the 

Note. — T he measurements given are, as they appear in the 
MS. 



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interior of this sanctuary. At the right of the 
entrance is the statue of St. Peter, seated in a 
chair, the foot of which is reverently kissed by 
all who pass by. In the column to the left the 
precious relics are preserved — the handkerchief 
Veronica, upon which our Lord imprinted his 
face; a large piece of the real wood of the holy 
cross, and the spear of Longinius, which pierced 
the side of our Lord on the cross. The magnifi- 
cent bronze gate, richly gilt and ornamented, and 
the four superb columns of alabaster, between 
which the statues of Sts. Peter and Paul stand, 
form the enclosure of a species of niche, this 
being the very oratory built by St. Anaclitus, in 
which the bodies of Sts. Peter and Paul are 
entombed — it being the subterranean altar, with 
the images of the Savior in mosaic as an altar- 
piece. Returning from this sanctuary, called the 
“ Confession of St. Peter,” the feeling takes pos- 
session of us that the very bones of Sts. Peter 
and Paul are preaching Jesus Christ crucified — 
the very tomb which enshrines them bearing tes- 
timony of the one true church of Christ — the 
very oratory of St. Anaclitus — who conversed 
with the Prince of the Apostles, who loved him 
as the representative of Jesus Christ, who vener- 
ated his relics, and had them deposited in 
this shrine, which became, as it were, the primi- 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



tive corner-stone of the great cathedral of Christ- 
endom — St. Peter’s in Rome — this very oratory 
bears witness “That the gates of hell shall not 
prevail against the Church.” 

We are in sight of the tribune and chair of St. 
Peter’s. It is in the semi-circle of the upper part 
of the nave, adorned by the design of the great 
artist, Michael Angelo. Above the altar are four 
gigantic statues in bronze, representing St. Am- 
brose, St. Augustine, St. Athanasius and St. John 
Chrysostom, which support the chair in which is 
enclosed the real chair used by St. Peter. The 
chair is crowned by a glory composed of angels 
and seraphims, the Holy Ghost in the form of a 
dove, being, as it were, in a transparent field in 
the center. In the niches around the Tribune are 
the statues of St. Dominic, St. Francis, St. Elias 
and St. Benedict, and above them are the niches 
containing the statues of St. Alphonsus, St. Fran- 
cis Carraccint, St. Francis de Sales and St. Fran- 
cis of Rome. At the distance, this chair of St. 
Peter’s seems very insignificant, but it being 70 
feet high, the majestic proportions are only real- 
ized when a person stands near by and examines 
it. Nearly the attention of every visitor is 
directed to the masterpiece of fresco painting in 
the upper story of the cupola or dome, which is 
139 feet in diameter and 330 feet high in the inte- 



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rior, and in particular to the pen in the hand of 
the prophet, which appears about a foot in size, 
whereas, really, it measures six feet in length. 

Having taken a hurried look at the main aisle 
and the cupola, we now turn aside to see the 
chapels in St. Peter’s. There are 19 of them, 
each adorned with superb paintings and statuary, 
not of ordinary merit, but of the highest order 
of art, and many of them are of the choicest 
marble and the rarest shades. The last of the 
paintings or statues admired, always seemed to 
be the most superb in form, the most life-like in 
expression, the most delicate in coloring, and the 
most artistic in every respect. I beg to conclude 
this visit by assuring you, that St. Peter’s in 
Rome is not only the largest and most beautiful 
church that has ever been erected, but is, without 
exception, the noblest work of architecture ever 
produced by man. 

Byron apostrophises it: 

“ But thou, of temples old or altars new, 

Standest alone, with nothing like to thee.” 

C. H. B. 



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V. 



Rome, May 21, 1877. 

THE ANNIVERSARY. 

This is the day of the grand celebration in St. 
Peter’s in honor of His Holiness, our glorious 
Pope Pius IX. Pilgrims from every portion of 
the globe will participate in it. They are esti- 
mated from 30,000 to 40,000 in number, and I 
verily believe that there are rather more than 
less; for wherever you go, in the streets, in the 
hotels, in the stores, in.- the churches, or in the 
public promenades, the crowd of strangers is 
immense. If it is not the promptings of devo- 
tion, curiosity has induced the strangers to 
hasten to the Solemnity. No doubt, owing to 
the concourse in the church, the absence of seat- 
ing accommodations and the general confusion 
prevailing, there seemed to be not the slightest 
attempt at order. 

The assembly had not even the appearance of 
devotion, nor that they flocked there for any 
other motive than curiosity. Silence was only 
obtained for a little while, when the several parts 
of the grand orchestral mass challenged more 
than ordinary attention. 

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35 



Walking from one side of the church to the 
other, commenting on the monuments, statuary 
and paintings; yes, laughing and giggling and 
general merriment was indulged in, instead of 
hearing mass in the ordinary spirit of piety. It 
appeared as if but a very insignificant sprinkle of 
Roman citizens was in the vast crowd, the Italian 
language being but seldom heard. The vastness 
of St. Peter’s church was seen to great advan- 
tage; the number of people assembled being, at 
the very lowest estimate, 30,000, and yet the edi- 
fice appeared far from being half filled. The 
ceremonial of a Pontifical High Mass, celebrated 
by one of the Cardinals was carried out to per- 
fection. The many dignitaries seated in the 
Sanctuary, and the singing, executed in a style 
for which the choir of St. Peter’s is renowned, 
and without equal in the world — the whole 
would have inspired devotion and awe, if the ser- 
vice could have taken place at home. The 
Lauds having been chanted by the clergy in the 
sanctuary or choir, and Cardinal Boromeo being 
vested for mass, the procession, led by six guards 
of honor, dressed in the quaint Roman style, 
moved on to the altar and mass commenced. 

In the sanctuary there were many priests and 
Bishops, who, from the peculiarities of the caps, 
cassocks, surplices, rochettes and mantillas, 



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86 ;‘AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 

showed that they had come from many different 
countries, there being but a few in the strictly 
Roman clerical costume. The singers and musi- 
cians forming the choir of that day, were about 
equally divided in the two organ lofts, to the 
right and left sides of the main altar. In each of 
them there were large organs. Both choirs 
were directed by one leader in an elevated posi- 
tion in the choir on the gospel side, who was 
attired in a purple cassock and rochette — such 
as Bishops wear in the United States. The 
music was of the “Palastrini” order, with a full 
orchestra accompaniment. It was executed with 
inimitable perfection. Each singer seemed to 
know his part by heart, no one scarcely ever 
glancing at the scroll before time. There were 
no female singers. Among the voices the two 
sopranos were the most marvellous, rendering 
their parts with as much facility and grace as the 
prima donna of rare culture of voice, yet they 
were two full bearded men, with whom two boys 
of about the age of 14 and 16 years seemed alter- 
nately to rival. In the sanctuary the prescribed 
rubrics are strictly observed, and immediately 
round about the sanctuary a good many persons 
are kneeling, evidently trying to hear mass 
devoutly. Many others, standing in their prox- 
imity, appear to follow the divine services. But 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



37 



the great crowd of the assembled continue to 
enjoy .themselves, and give not the least indica- 
tion of devotion. The services ended at a few 
minutes after noon. 

The remainder of the day was spent inspecting 
the stores on the Corso — the street which exhib- 
its fancies, curiosities and luxuries of every imag- 
inable description, which are admired by the 
throng of strangers in the city. The cost of 
which, counted by our dollars, are so low, and the 
workmanship so superb, that the best resolution 
not to load your valise down with the unnecessary, 
is insufficient to resist the allurements. Besides, 
our French gold 20-franc piece is worth $22.60 
in Italian money, for, like in the days of our civil 
war, paper currency is the only money in this 
country, and gold and silver are only in the 
hands of the strangers whom, on that account, 
are cordially welcome. To-day I learned that 
taxes in Rome are 40 per cent., which, in a 
country like this, is evidently the forerunner of 
bankruptcy. The extra Holy Day being over, 
we will again call at the Propaganda to-morrow 
morning, in hopes of bringing our official business 
to a speedy end. Then we will be free to devote 
the rest of our stay to the visiting of the several 
monuments of antiquity and of art. Adieu! 

• c. H. B. 



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VI. 



st. peter’s of the chains. 

Rome, May 22, 1877. 

Having given you an account of St. Peter’s, 
and the semi-centennial celebration of the Epis- 
copate of the Holy Father, at which he himself 
was not able to attend, for prudential reasons, I 
take pleasure in relating our visit to the Basilica 
of St. Peter’s “Ad Vincula.” The occasion of the 
consecration of a new altar was the extraordi- 
nary solemnity, and the exposition of the two 
chains which held St. Peter prisoner in Jerusalem 
and Rome, which, when coming within reach of 
one another, miraculously joined as if they had 
been one (A. D. 435), induced us to go there on 
this day. The exterior of this church is 
unsightly, showing great need of necessary 
repairs. It was built in the year of our Lord 
442, has three aisles, twenty Doric columns of 
Greek marble, and two of granite, which support 
the grand middle arch, and it possesses great 
treasures in the bodies and relics of the martyrs 
of the primitive church. Among the several 

38 W 



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39 



pieces of art which adorn this Basilica, is the pic- 
ture of St. Sebastian, a beautiful mosaic of the 
seventh century. Also a “ Pieta ” attributed to 
the artist Pomarancio. The grand statue of 
Moses, — the master-piece of Michael Angelo, 
acknowledged to be one of the most celebrated 
statues in the world, — challenges attention and 
admiration. It, alone, richly rewards a visit to 
this church. It gives a better idea of the 
grandeur and majesty of the great man of God 
than many years of study. 

st. clement’s. 

We visited the church of St. Clement, Pope 
and martyr, on the way from St. Peter’s of the 
chains. It is considered one of the oldest in 
Rome. The present edifice was erected in 1108, 
the ancient one having been leveled to the 
ground in the time of Robert Guiscard. It 
is particularly interesting, showing, in the interior 
arrangement, the observance of the rites of the 
ancient church. 

It is divided into three aisles, with columns of 
different marble, taken from other ancient build- 
ings. In the middle aisle is an inclosure, which, 
in primitive times, served as a chair, with a 
pulpit from which the epistles, gospels, etc., were 
read. Next to the inclosure is the sanctuary, 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT.” 



entirely separated from the other portion of the 
church, in which is the altar of the confession, 
or the main altar, which contains the urn, 
filled with the ashes of St. Clement, and St. 
Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch. By the excavation 
made it was discovered that the present church 
was built on the same spot, where the primitive 
church of the saint stood, and the stairs near the 
sacristy lead us down into the subterranean 
chapel. These were frequent in the early ages 
of the church, necessitated by the cruel and 
relentless persecutions of the Christians. Here 
we find a series of well-preserved fresco paintings 
of the 8th, ioth and nth centuries. 

ST. JOHN LATERAN. 

St. John Lateran is one of the most interesting 
Basilica’s in Rome, it being the ancient cathedral 
of the city, of which the sovereign, Pontiff, takes 
formal possession after his election. It was 
founded by Constantine the Great, and received 
its name from the place in Laterano in which it 
was built. In 1308 the old church of ten centu- 
ries was destroyed by fire, and the present edifice 
was begun by Pope Clement V. It was com- 
pleted and embellished by his successor. 

The front view is as odd as it is imposing; 
four large columns and six pilasters support a 



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massive cornice, surmounted by a balustrade, 
graced with several statues, in the center of 
them a colossal figure of the Savior. Between 
the columns and pilasters there are five Balconies, 
from the center of which the Pope gives his ben- 
ediction. It has five front doors, but the one to 
the right is walled up and called a “Porta 
Sancta,” because it is only opened in “Anno 
Sant to” — the twenty-fifth year of the Jubilee. 
In the interior it has five aisles. 

SCALA SANCTA. 

The Scala Sancta consists of twenty-eight 
marble steps, which belonged to the Palace of 
Pilate. It is held in great veneration because 
Jesus Christ ascended and descended them sev- 
eral times, bathing them with his precious blood. 

The Baptismal font of Constantine is formed 
of an antique urn placed in the center of the cir- 
cular space, surrounded by a balustrade and cov- 
ered with a dome, supported by two rows of 
columns. The frescoes and statues represent the 
life of St. John the Baptist. In the cathedral of 
St. John Lateran the heads (skulls) of Sts. Peter 
and Paul are preserved. 

On the road from this church to St. Paul’s, 
“outside the walls,” — the first way-side chapel of 
devotional interest, — is where St. Peter, the 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



apostle, meeting Jesus, asked the Lord: “Lord, 
where art Thou going,” and the Savior deigned 
to answer, “I come to Rome to be again cruci- 
fied.” In the chapel is the life-sized statue of the 
Redeemer, holding the cross in his right hand, 
and at the foot of the base of this there is “the 
stone on which the Savior left the print of his 
foot,” — at this apparition. At but a short dis- 
tance from St. Paul’s, on this same road, is 
another chapel built on the spot where St. Peter 
and Paul took leave of each other, “with the kiss 
of peace,” immediately before the martyrdom of 
both, the scene being represented by bas-relief 
figures of the two apostles. This memorable 
little chapel is in a sad state of decay, but what 
can be expected of a government, in such inferior 
affairs of Catholic piety, which auctions off the 
more important church property to feed the 
impiety of its officials, and which has turned 
many chapels and sanctuaries into stables for 
horses. Poor Catholic Italy! The insults 
offered to the Almighty will be avenged by the 
King of kings, who chooses his own time in 
scourging the stiff-necked. 

st. Paul’s, outside the walls, 

Is generally considered the most beautiful church 
in all Rome, and the Rev. Brother of V. Rev. H. 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 43 

J. Schutjes, who had visited it before, was fully 
convinced of the fact. In some respects I felt 
inclined to agree with him. It stands in an open 
space. It can be viewed with all its advantages. 
The whole of the exterior is imposing, and the 
chasteness, united with the grandeur, make the 
most favorable impression. Still St. Peter’s, in 
my opinion, defies it all. The origin of this 
church dates from the days of Constantine. In 
1823 the ancient structure was destroyed by fire, 
and the present Basilica is therefore of recent 
date. 

The side entrance has a grand facade, sup- 
ported by twelve columns of Greek marble, but 
the principal or Northern entrance, facing the 
city has a majestic portico with seven doors, 
entering into the church. It is decorated with 
one of the grandest Mosaics — said to cover the 
surface of 365 metres — representing the Savior 
seated on a superb throne, at the base of which 
Sts. Peter and Paul are seated; the divine lamb 
and some sheep — the figures of the prophets 
Isais, Jeremias, Ezekiel and Daniel on gold relief. 
The portraits of the seventy-four Popes are in 
Mosaics — from St. Peter to John IV. In the 
middle aisle and centre transcept is the ancient 
Papal altar, rescued from the conflagration of the 
church, ornamented with a Gothic canopy and 



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44 “AS THE BISHOP SA W IT.” 

supported by four columns of porphyry. Under 
this altar is the half of the remains of Sts. Peter 
and Paul, the other half being in St. Peter’s. 
The magnificent Baldichino canopy, which rises 
above it, is carried by four columns of oriental 
alabaster. The whole of this altar and its orna- 
ments closely resemble the one of the sepulchre 
in St. Peter’s, and is likewise encircled by ever- 
burning votive lamps. In the side aisles are con- 
tinuation of the portraits of the Popes to the 
present time. The side chapels are extremely 
grand, and many of the paintings, though of 
recent date, seemed to me unsurpassed by the 
old masters. We must bid adieu to this charm 
ing visit, in order to go to the “Church of St. 
Paul of the three fountains.” The distance is 
not great — the country quite hilly — the ravines 
frequent. There are several good quarries in 
this vicinity, which yield pretty good building 
stone. This is the country drenched with the 
blood of the thousands of martyrs, who fled into 
these ravines from the fury of the tyrants and 
were hunted down like wild beasts. Though 
many of the remains were stealthily carried away 
and buried in the catacombs, yet, at the right of 
the entrance of the grounds of the church of the 
three fountains, there is a monumental chapel 
erected in honor of the remains of 10,203 martyrs 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 45 

interred there. The church to the left, or oppo- 
site to this chapel of the martyrs, is being re- 
paired. Having for years been abandoned, it 
became almost a ruin, and thus far it is of little 
interest to the visitor, except the fact that it is 
one of the three churches built by the early 
Christians. At the entrance of the church-yard 
are the three fountains. In the corner to the right 
of the shrine, supported by columns of verd-an- 
tique, is the marble column or block — almost a 
wedge-shape on the top, upon which the head of 
St. Paul was laid for the beheading. In falling, it 
bounded thrice, at almost equal distances, and in 
the three places where the Saint’s head struck 
the ground, three fountains sprang forth, and 
have miraculously continued ever since to pour 
out their capacious streams. By special request 
of Holy Father, Pius IX, the Trappists have 
returned to this sacred spot, no doubt, to die in 
holy obedience to the wishes of the Sovereign 
Pontiff, because their own community had aban- 
doned it on account of the malaria arising from 
the swamp in the immediate vicinity. America 
has, however, come to their relief; one of the 
Trappists from Kentucky, U. S., being sent to this 
convent, and having heard of the medicinal prop- 
erties of the Eucalyptus tree, cultivated in South 
America and California, concluded “In Nomine 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



Domine” to try it as an antidote against the 
malignant fever. The Eucalyptus grows sponta- 
neously and luxuriantly on the convent farm, and 
preparing tea from the bark and leaves, the 
result following the use of this tea proved almost 
miraculous in curing the sickness of the monks. 
The manufacture of Eucalyptus Extract, which 
is quite extensively sold there, and elsewhere, is 
one of the resources of the monks in meeting the 
expenses of restoring the old, dilapidated church. 

If I did not feel confident that you are anxious 
to learn all about Rome and its grandeur, and 
feel as deep an interest in all these evidences of 
our holy religion as we do, I should consider it a 
duty to apologize for this long letter. Adieu! 

c. H. B. 



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VII. 



Rome, May 25, iSjy. 

AUDIENCE. 

The anxiously looked for audience with the 
Holy Father for all the Americans in the eternal 
city, Catholics and Protestants alike, was granted 
yesterday. The hour appointed was noon, and 
the tickets issued demanded the holder to be 
there at 1 1 130 o’clock. Our company, in which 
Mr. M. was the only layman, was among the 
punctual, there being about fifty persons in the 
audience hall upon our arrival. This hall can 
easily hold one thousand persons, the five hun- 
dred did not fill it half. The visitors are 
expected to stand, there being no seats, and only 
benches along the two side walls, no doubt, 
intended for the infirm and aged. In order not 
to crowd the Holy Father from view, benches 
form a hollow square in the entire length of the 
center of the hall. It is neatly frescoed and 
looks plain and handsome. A good English 
lady, who had been ushered into the apartment 
set aside for the Bishops and Cardinals, quite 

near to the throne on which His Holiness was to 

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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



be seated, kindly entered into conversation with 
me without a formal introduction. She volun- 
teered the information that the Holy Father 
would not appear until about one o’clock, as she 
has enjoyed the privilege of seeing him every 
day this week at the several audiences given. 
This maneuver would not have astonished me 
were she a Yankee lady, or a female reporter for 
one of our papers, but a lady of English gravity, 
to worm her way so dexterously, is worth record- 
ing. As soon as propriety permitted I bowed 
myself away, and moved over to the corner on 
the opposite side which our company had wisely 
selected, it being the only sure spot, from which 
they could get a full view of the Holy Father. 
I informed them of the hour’s patience to be 
exercised. Apropos! Let me tell you, I never 
saw our friend look more dignified and venerable 
than yesterday. He was dressed according to 
the prescribed etiquette — a swallow-tailed coat, 
white vest, white neck-tie, and the barber had 
done his best to make him look lordly, and his 
bright and beaming countenance was in keeping 
with the whole. The ladies wore a black dress 
and black lace veil, but all of them were loaded 
down with rosaries, medals, crucifixes, etc., etc., 
to be blessed as souvenirs of this auspicious occa- 
sion. The priests and Bishops were attired in 



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the usual full clerical dress. As the time 
approached, I left our company and repaired to 
the first ante-chamber, where the Cardinals and 
Bishops were assembled, awaiting the arrival of 
His Holiness. From the United States were 
present Archbishop Wood, Bishops McCloskey, 
McNierney, Dominic, Galberry, Leroy, Dubois,. 
Krautbauer, Seidenbusch and self, and the abbot 
of St. Cloud, Edelbrock, O. S. B., besides, 
several French and English Bishops. In the 
second ante-chamber were a great many French 
and English priests, and the laity of noble rank, 
and priests from the continent, who understood 
the secret of getting behind the curtain. 

Lo! the signal is given, and the noble guard, 
in their beautiful uniform, wearing the ancient 
Roman helmet, present arms as the Holy Father 
is carried to the entrance of the door of our ante- 
chamber. The Cardinals and Bishops kneel for 
the first blessing, and in the center of the room 
the chair is lowered, and the Holy Father allows 
a pleasant little chat to his sons in Christ, who 
now eagerly surround him. He has a kind word 
and benign, parental smile for each of them. 
You have seen the likeness of Pope Pius IX — 
every Catholic is familiar with it — but among 
his own children in private, he does not look a 
bit like the picture of him. He is so fatherly, so 



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•‘AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



kind, so mild, so simple and humble, one feels at 
once quite at home. The limbs of the Holy 
Father entirely refuse to serve him, and he is 
obliged to be carried in his chair by four fine 
looking men, dressed in scarlet uniform, from his 
private room into the audience hall. The noble 
guard advance before the Pope and the Cardinals 
and Bishops, two by two, follow in the slow pro- 
cession to the hall. 

It is an American audience — they who are, in 
all Europe, supposed to be the very essence of 
rudeness. Behold! the assembly in the second 
ante-chamber, among whom there was not a 
single American, broke into a shameful scramble 
and threw the procession into disorder; the mas- 
ter of ceremonies shouted for order; the Cardi- 
nals and Bishops looked horrified; the Pope is the 
only one who sadly smiles. Of course, all this 
will be put to the account of “American rude- 
ness,” whereas it was the so-called “European 
politeness” which, alone, was guilty of this dis- 
graceful scene. Order having been restored and 
each one assigned his place, Archbishop Wood 
stepped before the throne and read the address in 
behalf of the American Bishops. It being pretty 
long, the time gave me the desired oppor- 
tunity of not only seeing, but observing the 
Holy Father with great satisfaction. But he 



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appears now, as you see him in the good like- 
ness; he sits quite erect, his countenance con- 
tinues mild, yet very firm, his eyes are 
bright and fixed; he scans the audience before 
him with searching interest, yet no sentiment 
nor sentence of the address escapes his atten- 
tion. Yes, he looks the Pope, the real rep- 
resentative upon earth of Jesus Christ. Now the 
Master of Ceremonies invites each American 
Bishop to approach His Holiness; next in order 
were the priests and laymen, who had offerings 
to give, each one being privileged to kiss the 
ring on his hand. This ceremony over, the Pope 
began his address, which the telegraph wires will 
have reported and you read long before this let- 
ter can reach you. Pius IX truly speaks with a 
marvellous facility, real grace of manners, great 
vivacity, and an occasional display of good 
humor. His voice is clear and strong, betraying 
none of the tremor usual in persons of such great 
age. Rising, in conclusion, for the blessing, he 
announced that he wished to bless each and 
every one present, and each and every one repre- 
sented by them ; the Catholics in America for an 
increase of Sanctity, and the Protestants that 
they may be enlightened in Divine truth, and 
that he grants the usual indulgences for the 
articles he is about to bless, and in particular, the 



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plenary indulgence at the hour of death for the 
crucifixes. All present, Catholics and Protestants, 
without exception kneeling down, the Holy 
Father intones the blessing in a clear sonorous 
voice and gives the papal benediction. The 
assembly is estimated five or six hundred in 
number. The Pope being carried away, the 
audience is over. The most momentous event 
in my life, which will never be forgotten. 

QUIRRINAL. 

Owing to the important state of things, and the 
robber — occupant — called King of Italy, I could 
not enjoy a visit at the Quirrinal Palace, and had 
to content myself with admiring the exterior 
magnificence. Nearly opposite, on the right side 
and across the street, is St. Andrew’s church. 
Being oval in form, it looks but small, but is a 
model of beauty, and abounds in superb paint 
ings; the altar, under which the body of St. Stan- 
islaus Kostka rests, in particular is gorgeously 
rich and elegant. Adjoining the church is the 
house, and the room in which St. Stanislaus lived. 
It has been converted into a little chapel, hand- 
somely frescoed, and the statue of the dying 
saint is admirable. 

st. mary’s of the angels. 

At the church of the angels, a Dominican friar 



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introduced himself, speaking German, and took 
great pleasure in showing us around and explain- 
ing everything in their church. Like the great 
majority of the churches in Rome, its exterior is 
very unsightly, so much so, that here as in many 
other instances, we questioned if the trouble of 
getting out of the carriage and going in would be 
repaid. But the interior of this church surprises 
not a little in its grandeur. Of the ordinary 
sanctuaries of religion in this city, it is one of the 
most magnificent. It is in the form of a Greek 
cross; the columns are of red granite, brought 
from Egypt, 45 feet above the ground. The 
rotunda in the front of the church serving as a 
vestibule, is the very place of the ancient hot 
baths. 

Crossing the next street, there is a dilapidated- 
looking church; yet within, a costly and grand 
house of God, incrusted with Sicilian jasper and 
ornamented with many elegant paintings and 
beautiful statues, the most interesting among 
them, to my taste, are St. Francis, St. Joseph 
sleeping whilst the angel appeared to him in a 
dream, and St. Teresa in ecstacy. The banners 
above the high altar, taken from the Turks 1571, 
are not the least among the curiosities. 



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"AS THE BISHOP SAW IT.” 



S. MARIA MAGGIORE. 

Being in sight of and near the Basilica di S. 
Maria Maggiore, one of the grandest churches in 
Rome, we waived every other consideration and 
directed our driver to bring us there. It stands 
free, like St. Paul’s, and the first impression is 
favorable. It is 177 feet above the level of the 
sea. It dates its origin from the year 352, was 
enlarged in 432 and improved and decorated in 
the succeeding centuries, until the present Pope 
Pius IX finished it. 

“The Confession or the Subterranean Crypt” 
in front of the high altar contains “the cradle of 
the infant Savior,” the body of St. Matthias and 
relics of other saints. The church has three 
doors, one of which is walled up, and only opened 
in “Anno Sancto,” like the one in St. John Lat- 
eran. The three aisles in the interior are formed 
of thirty-six Ionic columns of white marble. The 
high altar is formed of a grand urn of porphyry 
covered with a marble slab. The altar slab is 
supported by four angels, one at each comer. 
The magnificent canopy over the altar is sup 
ported by four columns of porphyry. Though 
every one of the many chapels in this church is 
rich and beautiful, abounding in paintings and 
statues by masters, the altar of the Blessed Vir- 
gin struck me as particularly grand. The four 



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columns of the altar are covered with oriental jas? 
per and the pedestals with agate. The capitals 
are gilt bronze. The image of the Blessed Vir- 
gin is the one painted by St. Luke. It is sur- 
rounded with precious stones of great value, sup- 
ported by statues of angels of gilt bronze. A 
day spent in the church gives but a general idea 
of its vastness and magnificence. We are greatly 
fatigued — the strain on the eyes, the feet walking 
from altar to altar, and the tax on the mind and 
memory being persevered in from an early hour 
in the morning until hunger and fatigue reminds 
us of sunset, is not an easy task. Adieu! 

C. H. B. 



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VIII. 



Rome, May 26, 1877. 

Our visit to the church of the Holy Cross, will 
be as interesting to you as it was to us. It was 
erected by St. Helena in the gardens of Var- 
lianus, which belonged to Heliogabolus, Emperor 
of Rome, in the 3d century. Having undertaken, 
with the authority of her son, Constantine the 
Great, to clear the place of the Holy Sepulchre 
of the idols, Venus and Jupiter and their temples 
erected by the Emperor Hadrian, succeeded in 
finding the holy cross, the nails and the inscrip- 
tion over the cross, in the year 326. She gave a 
part to Jerusalem, another part to the Emperor, 
and a third part she brought with her to Rome. 
It is a sad-looking church, greatly neglected, and 
needs repairs to prevent it becoming a wreck. 
The interior seems to share in the neglect ; 
it does not charm by its neatness and the evi- 
dence of solicitude and care. It is divided 
into three aisles, and has eight massive columns 
of Egyptian granite. The canopy of the high 
altar rests on four columns composed of corals 
(called Breccia Corallina), which looks truly 

5G 



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5T 



grand. But we had seen enough of the edifice, 
and felt sadly disappointed in not finding what 
we particularly desired. A priest at this 
moment opened the sacristy door and looked into 
the church. He was the man we just now 
wanted to see, but he retired and closed the 
door. However, we were not to be baffled so 
easily, and followed him into the sacristy, and 
made inquiry about the relics. He politely 
answered our questions, and informed us that the 
chapel was locked and he could not open it. It 
became necessary to inform him that a Bishop 
from America was addressing him; he bowed 
reverently, quickly found a bunch of keys, and 
asked us to follow him. Having descended 
three stairs, and opened as many doors, we 
entered the subterranean chapel. It is small, and 
has but one altar on which are the relics of the 
Holy Cross, consisting of one large piece, both 
ends of which have considerably diminished, — by 
the many particles taken off, — and two smaller 
pieces. The priest put on a stole, and taking the 
large relic of the Holy Cross, he handed it to 
me, and, having kissed it, I offered it to my com- 
panion to kiss it, which he did with tears in his 
eyes. We held in our hands, also, one of the 
nails which fastened Our Lord to the wood of the 
cross, and which is, probably, four or five 



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inches long, somewhat bent in the middle and 
near the point, with a round head like a cap. 
We were privileged, also, to venerate two thorns 
from the crown of thorns pressed on the divine 
head, one of which is considerably longer and 
sharper than the other, and both of them are 
longer than the thorns on the locust tree in our 
country; a part of the column or pillar on 
which our Lord was scourged, and two pieces of 
stone of the Sepulchre into which the body of 
our Lord was laid after the crucifixion; also a 
large bone of the fore-finger of St. Thomas 
which touched the wounds of our Lord after his 
resurrection. Having seen, venerated and 
lovingly kissed these sacred evidences of our 
Holy Religion; holding them in my own hands, 
I could not help thinking of the words of the 
apostle: “I believe, O Lord, help Thou my 

unbelief.” 

You see we have found the cradle of the cross, 
— followed our Divine Saviour, as it were, from 
Bethlehem to Calvary. We have seen the relics 
of His apostles, stood on the tomb of the 10,203 
martyrs, — all bearing testimony of the divinity 
of Jesus Christ and of the church which he 
established, of which the apostles were the 
ground and pillars, and for which the martyrs 
died in the glorious confession of the one true 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 59 

faith. For the privilege which we have enjoyed 
we will -ever feel thankful to Almighty God. 
Though we ought to feel and say “Enough, O, 
Lord, enough!” yet I beg you to accompany me 
unto the Catacombs to complete this triumphant 
celebration. 



CATACOMBS OF CALITUS. 

We are all supplied - with wax tapers about six 
inches long, which are lit at the head of the stairs 
of stone steps, which lead down into the depths, 
and the descent begins. I did not count the 
number of steps, but think about the depth of 
fifty feet. The Catacombs of Calitus are the 
largest, and this we are now about to inspect. 
It is as dark as night, and the slender light from 
the wax tapers only suffices to discern the path, 
and reveal the object towards which you direct it 
very closely. You stand in a narrow passage 
about four feet wide and ten or twelve feet high. 
The earthen walls to the right and left of this 
passage are honey-combed with openings suffi- 
ciently large to receive a human body, pushed in 
lengthwise. The great majority of these are 
now open, the remains of the saints having been 
removed, twenty-eight wagon loads of them 
being at one time taken from here to St. Mary’s 
of the Martyrs — the ancient Pantheon. The 



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length of these passages vary from twenty to 
sixty feet, I fancy. You turn, now to the 
right, then to the left, moving forward and back- 
ward, and to and fro, until you feel yourself 
entirely at the mercy of the guide, ever to see 
day-light. The guide stops to point out to you 
an ancient altar in one of the passages; 
it is the grave of some eminent Pope, Bishop and 
martyr, which forms the altar table at an eleva- 
tion of about three feet from the ground on 
which you stand. Generally the earth has been 
dug away in the rear to form a semi-circle of 
about four feet high above the table of the altar, 
upon the walls of which the symbolic simple 
paintings are well preserved, such as “The whale 
of Jonas,” “The three youths in the furnace,” 
“Daniel in the den of lions,” “Isaac tied on the 
altar ready to be immolated,” “The Good Shep- 
herd with the lost sheep on his shoulders,” 
“Moses striking the rock,” “The dove with the 
olive branch,” “The symbol of fishes,” “The sym- 
bol of the pelican,” etc., etc. On the side of 
several of these altars is the seat of stone, serving 
in those days as the Bishop’s throne. The most 
interesting of these simple paintings on the altar 
wall of this earth (or, more properly, “volcanic 
cement”) is that of the “Blessed Virgin with the 
infant Savior on her lap,” her hands folded and 



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raised, as well as her eyes, heavenward — the 
attitude of adoration. It is at once an expres- 
sion of faith in the Divinity of Christ, and of the 
veneration in which these first heroes of Chris- 
tianity held the Mother of God. Going along 
the other passages, some shorter and some 
longer, from time to time there appear larger 
openings in the side wall. The examination 
reveals that two Saints had been buried there, 
and in some instances three or four had been 
entombed at the same time side by side. The 
openings were walled up by earthen slabs, like 
smooth tiles or stone, which frequently bore the 
inscription of the name of the martyrs, and when 
the name was not inscribed, the martyrdom was 
indicated by the vial of the martyr’s blood placed 
at the side of the remains. As one goes along 
he feels that he is walking on sacred soil — conse- 
crated by the ardent prayers of the prim- 
itive children of the church — consecrated by 
the many sacrifices of the mass offered here by 
the many saints — consecrated by the blood 
of the 174,000 (and God only knows how many 
more martyrs) whose holy remains rested here 
whilst their souls celebrated the eternal jubilee 
before the throne of God. The wax taper is 
consumed, and the second is lit, and we are 
chilled through and through, but the prayers of 



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the saints whom we came to honor here, will, I 
am sure, save us from the threatened evil conse- 
quences, for everyone told us, that no stranger to 
the Roman climate can stay in the Catacombs in 
this heat of Summer more than ten minutes with- 
out danger of death. Surveying with our eyes 
the ground after we had come out of the sub- 
terranean cemetery, we concluded it to embrace 
about twenty acres. The catacombs of St. 
Sebastian, which are near by — almost adjoining 
this, — are entered from the interior of the 
church of St. Sebastian, the door being near to 
the Sanctuary on the epistle side. Had it not 
been for a party of visitors just coming out from 
them, whilst we were examining the church, we 
would probably have failed in finding this blessed 
spot. We again took courage, — accepted 
another wax taper, and bravely followed the 
guide leading the way down the very marble 
steps which the first Christians built. The 
interior arrangement of these are nearly the 
same as the one we had left, excepting that the 
passages seemed shorter, and the turns more 
sudden and complicated. Here we found the 
tomb of St. Sebastian, forming an altar; also 
many very distinct paintings, such as I have 
already mentioned. The chapel of St. Cecilia is 
the most interesting. It is remarkable for its 



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peculiar shape, and larger in size than any other. 
It is a very nice little chapel, replete with 
symbolic paintings, particularly of the angelic 
company enjoyed by the saint. There is an 
inscription over the entrance, stating that forty- 
six Popes had been buried in these catacombs. 
Comparatively, these catacombs are smaller than 
the others we have seen, and we came to light 
less chilled than before. To economize time, 
especially on account of the intolerable heat, 
which, in degree, is not greater than in America, 
but the atmosphere seems to have no elasticity, 
and it becomes cruelly oppressive, we con- 
tented ourselves with two meals a day, — break- 
fast at 7 or 8, and dinner at 5 or 6 p. m., — and 
after dinner we frequently enjoyed a walk in the 
public promenades; not, indeed, because we felt 
in need of exercise, but, rather, to acquaint 
ourselves with the manners and customs of the 
people. 

Let me describe my walk along the Pincian 
Hill. At the foot of the mountains, is the beau- 
tiful church of the Holy Trinity, which adjoins 
the convent of the Ladies of the Sacred Heart. 
I said mass in the little c hapel of the “ Mater 
Admirabilis.” Here the spectacle commences. 
The road is in splendid condition, and, for quite 
a stretch, very level. The elevation is at least 



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one hundred feet above the level of the city. 
The one-horse vehicles are here in great num- 
bers, mostly occupied by strangers. The double 
carriages of the citizens abound in every con- 
ceivable style. A few drive with four horses. 
All enjoy the privilege of full-blooded horses, the 
public hacks not excepted. The scene is as 
exciting as a gala day in Central Park, New 
York. The police force is strong, and the 
uniformed gentry, called soldiers, seem innumer- 
able everywhere, and especially in such places, 
consequently perfect order is maintained in the 
seemingly wildest excitement of the drives. The 
pedestrians enjoy a separate walk to the right 
and left of the wagon-road, and slowly ascend 
the mountains until they reach the summit, 150 
feet high. The royal military band have here a 
richly-ornamented stand, from which they dis- 
course the pleasing, lively Italian music every 
evening in summer between 7 and 8 o’clock. It 
does not grow dark till 9 or iq o’clock in this 
season. From the Pincian Hill you have the 
grandest view of the city of Rome. The park 
on this mountain is lovely, the air exhilarating, 
and the visit delightful. The people, in particu- 
lar the strangers, enjoy wine copiously, yet we 
have not seen a single case of drunkenness since 
our arrival. In the city below, the procession of 



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beggars follows you from early morning till 
evening. Here all is a clispjay of luxury,- — a rare 
exhibit of the two extremes. Adieu ! 

c. H. B. 



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IX. 



THE MUSEUMS. 

/ Rome , May 29, i8jj. 

Of course, I have been able to report but the 
more prominent features of our many visits to 
churches and other places of note. You would 
be greatly astray, however, supposing that we 
had been merely following the promptings of 
devotion, at the expense of art, science and 
antiquity. A whole day was spent in admiring 
the antiquities in the different museums and gal- 
leries. Besides, we visited the different libraries. 
Dear me! who would dare venture even a brief 
report of the innumerable interesting works of 
art here spread out to view? A good-sized vol- 
ume would not contain their respective names. 
They should be seen at full leisure to be appreci- 
ated. A hurried visit like ours is a vexation 
instead of an enjoyment. But we are off to 
Tivoli, starting in a double carriage at seven, 
and arriving there at 10:30 A. M.; the road is 
very good, the morning delightful, the scenery 
charming, and the ride one of the most interesting 
in my life. At the distance, a portion of the 

G6 



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ancient town is seen on the summit of the moun- 
tain, which it would seem impossible for horses 
to climb. But the beautiful winding road ascends 
it gradually, revealing most interesting scenery 
of mountains and valleys, cliffs and precipices, 
which so charm the attention, that the rest on the 
brow of the mountain, graced by the majestic old 
archway of the entrance into the city, only 
awakened the consciousness of the fact that, look- 
ing back, the dome of St. Peter’s is in the dis- 
tant valley. It is said to have seven thousand 
inhabitants, a fact which you would question and 
mark down as ridiculous, viewing the apparent 
size of the city. But, wandering through the 
dirty, narrow streets, blockaded by the few don- 
key-carts and the indefinite swarm of idlers 
and half-dressed youngsters, of every age and 
sex, the conviction begins to grow, that it is 
densely populated. The weather is hot, the 
women, young and old, are out on the door-steps, 
and scattered on the streets, squatting down on 
the pavements, sewing, knitting, spinning, chat- 
ting, laughing and singing. Many of the men, 
young and old, are lying full length in the streets, 
on the walls, or any place, which could possibly 
hold a lazy human being. The whole town is 
the very picture of indolence, yet not a single 
intemperate person is seen. Here the guides are 



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68 “AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 

as bad as the mosquitoes in our own country; if 
you shoo away one, half a dozen are ready to 
bounce on you. Our first visit was to the famous 
“Falls,” which, compared to the Niagara Falls, 
are but insignificant. Descending, however, by 
the tunnel path made along the river edge of the 
precipice, they look formidable enough. The 
occasional openings for rest and viewing the scen- 
ery, the variety within the small compass is truly 
grand. This appears more gorgeous from the 
grotto beneath the falls, where the struggle be- 
tween the torrent of angry waters, and the stub- 
born rocks, present a picture, the sublimity of 
which the pen cannot describe, and the pencil can 
but faintly imitate, though guided by a master 
hand. 

The falls are 150 feet, and the work of art — the 
river Annio being conducted to this precipice to 
prevent an inundation of the city in seasons of 
freshets. Standing on the interesting ruins of the 
temple of Vista, to the right of which is the tem- 
ple of Sebilla, converted into a church dedicated 
to St. George, the view of the falls is majestic, 
the charming valley being spread out before you. 
The ancient villa and gardens of Horace, so bril- 
liantly sung in his poetry, now the church of St. 
Anthony, are admired at the foot of the opposite 
ridge of mountains, and the visitor turns away, a 



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greater admirer of the romantic taste of the 
ancient Romans, who resided here, rather than 
the splendor of ancient Rome — the mistress of 
the known world. The ride, returning to the 
city, was even more charmingly interesting than 
the morning, the descent exposing to view the 
grand scenery of the near and distant mountains 
to the right and left of the road, the glacier peaks 
of those to the right sparkling diamond rays in 
the defiant clouds which seemed to sport in the 
icy embrace of the crystallized crowns. On the 
sides of the hills, dozens of young men and 
women can be seen, enchanted by the music of 
the harp, violin and flute, stretched on the 
sward, or engaged in fantastic dance — the men 
in the slightest summer attire, and the women in 
the airy corset and short skirt, would seem to be 
the happiest people in the world. The attire of the 
women standing in groups on the several market 
places in Rome, had considerably amused us, but 
we only discovered to-day that it is the custom of 
the laboring classes, who come there to engage 
for the harvesting, haying, etc. I am sure that 
you will pardon the inadvertence to the extraor- 
dinary stock of cattle, which all of us admired 
repeatedly to-day, not only on account of the size, 
but particularly the huge horns, in many instances 
two feet and more in length, and, on the conti- 



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nent, frequently used as ornaments on the man- 
tel-pieces, and serving as hat and coat racks; 
at the base they are of a pure white and the 
trunk of a sky-blue color. The caravans of don- 
keys, carrying immense baskets strapped over 
their backs, each of them holding a small cart- 
load of vegetables of every description, or a huge 
load of hay being strapped down on them, which 
buries the animal from sight, with a man or 
woman perched on the top, is not the least of the 
native curiosities. 

I believe I have not yet informed you that the 
houses in the city of Rome are from three to four 
stories high. In the business streets, of course, 
the first floor is occupied by the stores, but in 
every other instance this is used for stabling pur- 
poses. The one of the house in which we are 
lodged is occupied by horses and two hacks. 
The second floor of the house serves the purpose 
of a garret in our country, but here in many in- 
stances the rooms are fitted up to rent to strangers. 
This is our luck, having a parlor and two bed- 
rooms for ten francs a week, on the second floor. 
The third floor is used by the family of the 
owner of the house, and the fourth likewise, if 
they stand in need of it. But the upper floors, 
fourth, fifth and sixth, are rented at a handsome 
rate to strangers who remain a year or longer in 



* 

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the city, and learn that these only are considered 
healthy. 

No room, I think, is free from the Roman 
plague, — the fleas, — but the second floor is 
inhabited by millions, as our experience teaches, 
and the swollen wrists and ankles smartingly 
reveal in the morning. But the insect is fully 
naturalized in every rank of society, for the 
noble lady and lord, the priest and the cardinal 
as freely as the peasant, pay their respects in the 
streets, in the parlor, in company and wherever 
they meet them. So far from being ignored, 
these fleas make themselves felt at all hours of 
the day and night, and received due attention 
from the rich and poor. The lizards, too, sport 
numerously on the Roman walls and ancient 
ruins, and only the strangers are disturbed by 
their pranks and thrusts. The Romans seem to 
be on friendly terms with them. c. H. b. 



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X. 



Venice , June 5, 1877. 

We left Rome on Wednesday, the last day of 
May, regretting that it was not our privilege of 
enjoying all the great and glorious monuments 
of antiquity, which, in part, had challenged our 
admiration during the twelve full days spent in 
the sanctuaries of the apostles, and the innumer- 
able saints and martyrs of the primitive age. 
But we all felt that we economized time as 
profitably as the cruel heat and the many incon- 
veniences would permit, to which strangers are 
necessarily subjected. Our trip to Naples was a 
continuous display of mountain scenery, such as, 
above all other countries, Italy abounds in. The 
glorious sunset was the most sublime spectacle I 
ever witnessed — the sun seemingly contending 
with a heavy bank of clouds — wrestling for his 
privilege, enjoyed since the day of creation, of 
pouring his brilliant rays on the face of the earth. 
Cloud upon cloud hurried across the face of the 
sun, appearing like huge mountains, the summit 
of which lit up, as if smiling a glorious victory — 
when, suddenly, as if by strategy, the sun burst 

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forth, a flood of beams, to the right and left of 
the black thunder-clouds, causing the apparent 
victors soon to grow pale in dismay. Lo! the 
death struggle seems to have been reached; flash 
upon flash of lightning follows in rapid succession, 
until the horizon is a sheet of flames, in which 
the sun retires for the night. Soon the legions 
of Stars in the clear sky celebrate the triumph. 
The festive chimes all over the city of Naples 
announced the Feast of Corpus Christi on the 
following morning. There are three churches in 
the immediate vicinity of the Hotel Geneva, at 
which we stop. Turning the corner of the hotel, 
we faced an ancient-looking building, St. James’ 
church, in which we entered. Having intro- 
duced ourselves, we were privileged to say 
mass on the grand altar, — a privilege always 
accorded on the continent, if the altar is not 
actually occupied by a high dignitary. As 
in Rome, so here, the stores are all open. 
Thousands rival one another in singing out the 
vegetables and other articles for sale. The 
streets are crowded with carts, hacks and 
vehicles of every description, but, with all, the 
churches were crowded, too, proving that, in the 
midst of the unholy display, there is faith and 
devotion among the people. This, the public 
procession of the Blessed Sacrament exhibited ■ 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



in a marked manner, for it was the largest I ever 
witnessed, and lasted from io to 12, notwith- 
standing the boiling sun on the bare heads. 

The reign of Victor Emannuel and a free Italy 
were sadly visible in the disorder of the streets, 
and the general order was not what the 
solemnity of the occasion called for. There are 
three hundred churches in this city. The streets 
are clean. Business appears brisk and thriving. . 
The exhibit of the extravagances of fashion on 
the streets, the gold- and silver-mounted equip- 
ages on the promenades, and grand drives in the * 
evening, the general display of luxury in all 
public places, confirm the impression. The 
heat was intense during the day. In the cool of 
the evening we joined Revs. A. and S. for a 
walk. Getting into a crowd, a sharp Neapolitan 
boy, about 11 years of age, snatched Rev. A.’s* 
watch-chain. A lively race between the t\^o 
ensued, and the cry of “arreti” became loud ancT 
general. The lad was caught and Rev. A. had 
to appear twice before the police judge to 
recover the same. 

The military band plays one hour every even- 
ing on the public square, which abounds in the 
rarest and most luxurious plants, and is a forest 
of superb marble statues. 

At six o’clock on Friday morning we under- 



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took the excursion to Pompeii — fourteen miles 
by railroad. This is the favorite summer resort 
of the Romans of rank and wealth. The city, 
though small and occupying only an area of two 
acres, is of great renown. Cicero, Sallust, Lucre- 
tius, Ponsa, Castor and many others of the nobil- 
ity had villas there. It was overwhelmed and 
buried by the famous eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, 
A. D. 79, having been much injured by previous 
earthquakes. At that time the sea washed the 
walls of the city, but it continued to recede after 
the eruption, and is now more than a mile from 
the ruins of the ancient wharves. The sinking 
of a well in 1 748 brought to light several statues, 
and led to the discovery of the once-famous Pom- 
peii. A great portion of the city has been 
brought to light. Nearly all the streets run at 
right angles, like a great majority of our cities in 
America, but they are miserably narrow, the 
widest being thirty-two feet, and the average 
width of the rest fourteen feet. The pavements 
of the streets are perfectly preserved; the deep 
wagon ruts in tlje heavy blocks of stone are a 
curiosity. The pavements on the narrow foot- 
paths in front of the houses are marvels of 
beauty, being frequently composed of stones from 
one to two inches in size and diamond shaped, 
the whole resembling mosaic. We spent two 



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and one-half hours admiring the various ruins, 
the pictures, mosaics, vases and other ornaments 
in the once-grand palaces, wonderfully well pre- 
served in the “Lava tomb” for 1,700 years. The 
work of excavating still continues, there being 
from 50 to 100 boys from 12 to 16 years of age, 
employed on the morning of our visit, each 
having a basket strapped on his back, which, 
when filled with the loose earth, was carried up 
to the bank and dumped into a mud-cart running 
on a wooden rail, and drawn by a donkey. We 
had a keen appetite, and hurried to the restau- 
rant, called the hotel, for a hearty breakfast; 
then to prepare for the next adventure — the 
great work of the day — the exploring of the 
summit of Mt. Vesuvius. Two saddled horses 
and mules stood at the door of our hotel, ready 
to be mounted as soon as we were ready. Rev’s 
S. have the two mules, no doubt because they 
looked so tame and subdued, Rev. A. and 
your humble servant mounted the two prancing 
ponies, our guide having jumped on the third 
mule, and we started off for our ascent of Mt. 
Vesuvius. Our ponies moved on a lively trot, 
which the mules seemed not to appreciate, and 
the young man, fortified with a good-sized club, 
following the party on foot, raised the shout, 
“Na-ce! na-ce!” accompanied each time by an 



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ungracious blow of a club on the backs of the 
tardy mules. Thus we slipped along the narrow 
path between the gardens, orchards and vine- 
yards, for about thirty minutes. 

The vineyards were of considerable interest, 
producing the famous wine called “ Lac- 
rimae Christi.” A merry laughter caused us to 
halt and look for the cause of the amusement. 
It was Rev. S., senior. The mule he was riding 
had become disgusted with the cruel use of the 
club, and lifted the rider out of the saddle, buried 
his head in the sand, while his left foot remained 
firmly held in the stirrup, and the good-natured 
beast quietly looked on the performance. Having 
wiped his face, and being remounted, the guide 
and driver gave new emphasis to the “Na-ce,” 
and applied the club more vehemently, until we 
arrived at the “Half-way house.” Standing on 
the very ground on which the precious juice 
grows, we concluded to be refreshed with it. 
The bottle is worth three francs (doubtless the 
price for strangers, only, who are supposed to 
have an abundance of gold), but we felt con- 
vinced that the wine was pure, tasted good, and 
the “Lacrimse Christi” had refreshed us. Another 
brave ride brought us to the station, beyond 
which no beast can climb, and, from this point to 
the summit of the mountain, not a shrub or weed 



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of any kind is seen growing, the whole surface 
being covered with lava, looking like coarse coal 
ashes, which is about knee deep, with occasional 
rocks cropping out. The trip looks dismal 
enough, as you cast a glance at the height, and the 
almost perpendicular path leading to the fiery 
gulf. The officious guides are impatient; they 
shout “Alley! venez! la! la” holding out to you 
the block of wood attached to a rope, slung over 
the shoulders of each. Taking hold — another 
“Alley!” — and the man behind you pushes you, 
and the man with the rope pulls you forward; 
the picturesque ascent has begun. Having made 
gigantic efforts, and reached the first station, I 
was glad enough to sit down on the few steps 
dug down into the lava to serve as chairs. I felt 
my lungs insufficient for the air needed, and my 
chest too small for the bouncing heart, and I 
could only continue the journey at the expense of 
my life. I declared my determination to go no 
farther. But the rough-looking, yet sagacious, 
Italians had witnessed such scenes before, and 
promptly proposed to carry me up on their 
shoulders, — a novel performance. I don’t re- 
member of having indulged in that kind of play 
for, at least, more than forty-five years. It 
seems too grotesque. “Alley! alley!” Here I am 
on the shoulders of my two brave fellows, plod- 



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ding through the deep lava ashes, until we arrive 
at the second station — for rest. 

Looking around, Revs. A. and S. continue 
their noble struggle and are soon seated near me, 
panting heavily and perspiring profusely. Rev. 
A. feels too exhausted to proceed and willingly 
mounts the shoulders of the guides. . As . they 
take their advance, I have a chance of admiring 
the grotesque picture, of which I am one of the 
ludicrous figures. Suddenly my men stop, let 
me down and begin to negotiate for the remuner- 
ation. We are about half way up, the sun is 
boiling hot and the lava ashes reflect an intoler- 
able heat. The man begins by placing the fore- 
finger of the right hand on the tip of. the thumb 
of the left hand, saying: “Payez cinque?” repeat- 
ing “cinque” until he came to the Tittle finger. 
My obtuseness in not wishing to understand this 
ceremony, only served its repetition in louder 
accents, as if I were deaf, “Si vinti cinque?” Hav- 
ing relieved their anxiety and having repeated 
“Si, si, Signore!” they placed me again on their 
shoulders and soon brought me to rest with Rev. 
A. at the third station. At this point two men 
came running down the mountain, like wild deer, 
and joined our company in the task of hauling us 
to the mouth of Vesuvius, which was accom- 
plished in an hour and a half, Rev. S. persevering 



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in walking the whole distance, with the aid of 
the rope and two men. The ascent is 4,500 feet, 
and we performed it from 10 to 11:30 A. M., on 
Friday, June 1, there being not a speck of a cloud 
visible in the sky. A raging volume of smoke 
rushes from the mouth of Vesuvius, which is at 
least half a mile in diameter. This prevents us 
from looking into its horrid furnace, and we find 
it necessary to go to the opposite side of this 
huge funnel, from which the strong breeze drives 
the smoke. The most awful sight which the 
imagination can depict, is here in view. It would 
seem as if you could look down into its fiery gulf 
thousands of feet; the side walls of the abyss 
showing the red hot sulphur. The smoke rolling 
up from beneath, being reddish-blue, growing 
darker as it is belched up, by the horrible explo- 
sions in the depths, which sounded like distant, 
rolling thunder, or like the sea in a storm, dashed 
against the rocky shore. We stood gazing into 
this frightful and raging gulf of fire for about 
twenty minutes, when suddenly a horrible explo- 
sion sent a shower of fiery rocks of every dimen- 
sion about a hundred feet above the mouth of 
the mountain into the dense column of smoke in 
the air. It was natural enough that we wisely 
thought it best for us to leave, not knowing but 
the next explosion might send some of the red 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 81 

hot rocks in our direction, to greet us disas- 
trously. The sight was as awful as it is fright- 
fully grand, and is a lively picture of hell. 

We retired. But about midway from our 
starting point on the opposite side, our guide 
thought well to challenge us to test the heat of 
the lava on which we were standing, and pro- 
posed to roast a fresh egg which he took from 
his pocket. “Cinque minute” was the wager for 
a franc, which we readily accepted, and he dug a 
hole sufficient to hold the egg and covered it 
with the ashes, and at the expiration of “cinque 
minute” — five minutes by my watch, he took it 
out hot and hard, which the breaking revealed. 

C. H. B. 



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Venice, June 6, 1877. 

There is not, perhaps, a city in the world 
which obliges a person to enjoy leisure as much 
as this, owing to the fact that the streets are 
canals, with but the exception of a few alleys, 
and one cannot step out of doors without the 
assistance of a “Gondola,” of which there are 
thousands for the accommodation of the people. 

About our visit to Loretto, you have 
learned nothing, and it is worth naming, as we 
had to endure, in order to visit it, a night 
trip in the miserable coupe of railroad cars 
on the continent. We arrived there at five 
o’clock in the morning, on Sunday, June 3. 
The town is about the distance of one mile 
from the depot on a handsome elevation, and 
the church may be seen from the valley. It 
is evidently the most important building. There 
were a few wretched vehicles for the accommo- 
dation of the passengers, but we preferred to 
walk into the town, which seemed to be but a 
very short distance. Our company at this 

early hour caused as much curiosity to the mot- 

82 



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83 



ley crowd assembled in the public market place, 
as they and their singular attire was to us. 
Though it was Sunday, yet the market was in 
full blast, and that in Loretto, under the very 
shadow of the “House of Nazareth,” the house of 
the Blessed Virgin, so highly prized and conse- 
crated by the Apostles, which was placed here 
by angel hands. After the unsuccessful termina- 
tion of the Crusades, the inhabitants of the towns 
of Tersato and Fiume were startled by the mys- 
terious appearance of the house on the small 
mountain between the two towns. The Bishop 
Tersato, Alexander, being sick, had a vision, in 
which the Blessed Virgin informed him that the 
“House on the hill was the house from Nazareth,” 
and in testimony of this revelation he was 
instantly cured of his illness. To attest the 
identity, a commission was sent to Nazareth in 
1291, who found the house gone. 

They measured the length and breadth of the 
foundation on which it once rested, and, return- 
ing, found the measure to agree perfectly with 
the mysterious house in Dalmatia, on the hill 
between Tersato and Fiume. But, on the 10th 
of December, 1294, the “House of Nazareth” as 
mysteriously disappeared from Dalmatia as it 
had come there, and, having passed over the 
Adriatic Sea, it rested near the town of Recanati, 



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84 "AS THE BISHOP SA W IT. P 

in the Laurel forest, within the domains of the 
pious matron, Lauretta, and from this the place 
received the name of Loretto. The shepherds 
keeping the night watch were the first who wit- 
nessed the event, and the fact that the trees sur- 
rounding the house bended as if in reverence to 
the house, of which all the inhabitants of 
Recanati became eye-witnesses. The fame of the 
“ Holy House” spread far and wide. Many pil- 
grims visited it, and frequent miracles were per- 
formed. But the “banditti,” finding this a grand 
harvest for their nefarious trade, soon infested 
the forest and neighborhood, and made the place 
a much-dreaded spot. Having occupied this 
place eight months, the “ Holy House” was again 
moved, by invisible hands, onto a neighboring 
hill. But the two brothers who owned the prop- 
erty began to quarrel over the spoils — the 
gratuitous offerings made by devout pilgrims. 
Two months later the “Holy House” moved 
away from this quarrel as mysteriously as it had 
come, and rested on the spot where we saw it. 
'A second commission was appointed and visited 
the place in Dalmatia, between Tersato and 
Fiume and, also, Nazareth, and confirmed the 
result of the first Examiners. The Sovereign 
Pontiff, Paul II, granted the first indulgencies to 
the Pilgrims visiting the “House of Loretto,” 



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85 



and the abundant offerings of the faithful soon 
enabled them to build the grand church which 
now surrounds the “Holy House.” Having been 
duly introduced to the venerable Rev. Pastor, I 
was informed that I could say mass on the only 
altar in the House of Nazareth, as soon as the 
priest in the act of saying mass would have fin- 
ished. This gave me only sufficient time for the 
immediate preparation, and, having been rested 
on cassock, rotchet and mantilla, the kind Padre 
surprised me with the question, “My Lord, 
would you like to go into the cammino ? ” Cam- 
mino— chimney ? Why, what does he mean? 
But, quickly resolving to see it out, I answered 
“Yes.” Bowing respectfully, he preceded me, 
leading the way to the mysterious spot. He 
stepped before a large gate of iron bars, 
motioned vehemently to beings hidden from my 
view, and out came about a dozen persons, young 
and old, and, bowing to me, he introduced me 
into the narrow space behind the altar in the 
“Holy House,” and pointed out a prie-dieu, on 
which I knelt down and began the preparation. 
My prayers ended, the mysterious Cammino 
returned to my mind, and, looking to the left, the 
solution flashed on me in the reflex from the 
“gold-plate” which covered the hearth, or fire- 
place, of the “House of Nazareth.” The prie- 
dieu on which I knelt was standing on the 



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hearth, and I was truly in the “Cammino.” 
Notice being given by the same good Padre, 
Rev. A. and I advanced to the front of the altar, 
and commenced mass, at which a pretty large 
number of devout people were permitted to be 
present and receive Holy Communion. At a late 
hour my Reverend companions offered the Holy 
Sacrifice in Loretto. The “Holy House” is a 
very plain structure of brick, showing marked 
signs of rough usage, by time or otherwise; in 
particular, the walls to the left or gospel side. 
The bricks there seem to be so detached that it 
seems a marvel not to fall to pieces. The whole 
room is literally lined with votive ornaments 
strung along the four walls in grotesque forms. 
Jewels abound. The devotion of the people 
frequenting the Cathedral, of which the “Holy 
House ” forms, as it were, the miraculous 
sactuary, proved very edifying in the great sim- 
plicity displayed in every act of devotion and 
piety. The sanctity of the place would seem to 
have inspired the visitors, who were many, with 
more than ordinary reverence, for here not one 
of them dared to indulge in gayety and unholy 
mirth, so general in the cathedrals and places 
of worship visited by the pleasure-seekers in 
Europe. 

Having performed our devotions, we returned 
to our hotel for breakfast, which was served in 



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87 



better order and taste than we anticipated, the 
establishment wanting all the charms of so-called 
“modern improvements.” The ludicrous scenes, 
however, began when we were going a second 
time to the cathedral for a more detailed inspec- 
tion of the “Holy House,” and the majestic 
shrine of art, which faith and piety had designed, 
and the offerings of pilgrims of past ages had 
realized. The street from our hotel leads 
directly to the cathedral, and is lined with stores 
on both sides. The storekeepers were all 
women of varied complexions, size and age, who 
appealed to us in the most eloquent manner for 
the purchase of articles for the “Holy House,” 
and proved to be as vehement as the hack-drivers 
at one of our union depots in America. Rev. S., 
being moved by one of these, gave away, fol- 
lowed into her store, inspected several religious 
and other articles, bought a few trinkets, and 
declared “that the woman was as eloquent as an 
American lawyer.” If I thought that it would 
interest you, I should, with pleasure, mention the 
extraordinary attire, both of men and women, 
which is alone worth a visit to Loretto. It is of 
a pattern similar to that you find in old pictures, 
or on the stage, gay in colors, and lends to the 
wearer an appearance of fairyland. They do not 
even approach the customs of France, England 
and America. 



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88 "AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 

Have patience with me, for trying to give you 
an idea of the appearance of the every-day attire 
of the laboring olass in Italy. The men in the 
fields wear a suit of unbleached linen, somewhat 
like a blouse; it has no sleeves and it nearly 
touches the knees; the whole is wide and hangs 
loosely about them. They wear a broad rimmed 
straw hat and no shoes or stockings. The women 
in the fields wear a head-dress, which somewhat 
resembles the coronet of the Sisters of Charity. 
The chemise is the only body dress, and the 
skirt, made of blue linen, is suspended by two 
shoulder straps, which are crossed on the back, 
and the lower part of the skirts extends about 
three inches below the knees. But the Sunday 
dress of these peasants is a checkered shirt, linen 
pantaloons and straw hat for the men; the 
women, however, wear a corset body, of every 
shade of color, such as you see in pictures repre- 
senting Italian minstrels. It is very wide at the 
upper part — and some kind of shawl, or fre- 
quently, some fancy work of very thin texture, 
passing over the shoulders, fastens the skirt in 
front and on the back. This skirt comes up to 
the corset-body and descends a little below the 
knees, and is of the brightest colors. Neither 
men nor women wear shoes Sundays nor week- 
days. c. H. B. 



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XII. 



Bardonecchia, June 10, 1877. 

Who, in America, ever heard of such a place 
as the above? Surely, not many, unless they, 
like ourselves, were forced, by adverse circum- 
stances, to enjoy this recreation. It is a village 
in the basin of three grand mountain peaks, 
before entering the tunnel of Mt. Cenis. 
Although, at the moment of this writing, a bril- 
liant and glaring sun showers down a flood of rays 
from the snow-covered summit of the mountains, 
and the streamlets of melted snow descend in 
mad excitement, yet the air is fresh and the 
weather delightful. For our enjoyment we ven- 
tured on the fatiguing task of climbing some 
hundred feet upon Mt. Cenis, following a safe but 
steep path, which bore abundant evidences of 
being frequented. The magnificence of the scen- 
ery spread before us, the grandeur of the view in 
diree directions, and the charming beds of fra- 
grant flowers at our feet, which seemed to 
delight, and smiled graciously for being liberated 
from the long embrace of the snow, were an 
abundant recompense for the fatigue of the day. 

89 



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The railroad train had hardly lost sight of the 
city of Milan, when the grade of the road begins 
a rapid ascent on a chain of mountains; tunnel 
after tunnel shuts out daylight, and each in turn 
adds to the disappointment. It is not the greatest 
tunnel, which engages the tongue and mind of 
every traveler on the train. The roaring, plung- 
ing, rushing and foaming of the mad waters of 
the river — one moment at your right, another at 
your left, and again beneath the train — whisper 
feelings of alarm, and nearly everyone steals a 
glance through the window of the car, only to be 
rewarded by the horrid depth over which the 
train is suspended, and the frightful cliff, evi- 
dently well disposed to annihilate everything in 
case of an accident. The scene, as the train 
winds its way through these mountains, passes 
over the raging waters, and bids defiance to the 
terrific cliffs near and far, are as grand as they 
are awful, inspiring as much terror as admiration. 
The watches were whipped out of the pockets of 
the passengers as often as the darkness of one of 
the many tunnels announced the delusion of 
entering the grand tunnel, which all were deter- 
mined to time. It became a general recreation 
and amusement for the passengers, to be sure, at 
the expense of the sensitive, who did not enjoy 
the sport of being laughed at. But the real sport 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W ITT 91 

came when we really did enter the great tunnel, 
which passes through the very heart of Mt. Cenis, 
for the majority of the anxious enjoyed a sound 
sleep, and the exhilarating shout of the watchful, 
could only arouse them into confidence of the 
reality of the dense darkness. This tunnel is 
nine American miles in length, and the train 
passes through it at a very slow speed. The 
windows of the coupes are firmly closed by the 
conductor, and the cars are lit by a large lamp 
in the center of the ceiling of each coupe. The 
train, having emerged from the “ Great tunnel,” 
stops at the station “Madone,” which we 
greeted at noon yesterday (June 9). Having 
gone through the ceremony of the “ Custom 
Office,” we made haste to the dining hall, the 
delay being forty-five minutes for a solid meal, 
eaten with European leisure. But ere we were 
fairly at the task, and the dishes steaming 
before us, our noble host surprised us by 
singing out, from an elevated stand, “ Gentlemen, 
you have more than one hour’s delay!” In 
Europe such is an official announcement, and 
admits of no doubt, and inspired the comfort of a 
delightful dinner. But a little reflection on the 
indefinite “more than one hour” created distrust, 
and the loud whispers made the rounds, until the 
startling news reached every ear that a terrible 



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mountain-slide had inundated the railroad track 
on the preceding day (June 8), and no train 
could proceed till the track had been cleared, 
which was, indeed, no easy matter. The station 
Madone being but a small town, having no reg- 
ular hotel, and the night train which had come 
in, settled all its passengers before our arrival. 
It became sorely evident that we might consider 
ourselves in luck in finding lodging for our party 
of seven persons. A hurried inquiry revealed 
the fact that even the private houses were 
crowded, and we had no prospect of finding any 
quarters at all. Our party at once resolved to 
board the returning train as far as Bardonecchia, 
and we were delighted in finding two hotels, 
one near the station, and the second a couple 
of squares distant, which looked more invit- 
ing. The grandeur of this hotel you- can 

easily imagine, if I tell you our company 
occupies all the spare room in it. The force of 
circumstances has introduced us into the bosom 
of this marvellous fortification, called into being 
by the hands of the Creator, and, as I raise my 
eyes, I behold, this moment, the rare-spectacle of 
the placid silver clouds kissing the brows of the 
three mountain peaks, blushing as they rush 
away from the jealous followers, which thirst for 
the cold embrace of the icy summits. 



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Owing to the indisposition of our friend, which, 
on our trip to Milan, had become somewhat 
alarming, the heat being so intense, that he 
had no courage to leave the hotel, of necessity 
our stay was shortened, and we. could not enjoy 
the antiquities and works of art to any degree of 
satisfaction. Therefore, you must pardon, my 
hurried description of what we saw. Milan 
is, in my opinion, one of the handsomest cities on 
the continent, and what the Europeans deemed a 
great fault, I admired, i. e., the streets are nearly 
all square, running at right angles. The houses 
look clean and fresh, the style and architecture is 
bold and grand, and they are five or six stories 
high. With the exception of a few great busi- 
ness thoroughfares, the streets are narrow; 
charmingly clean, having the advantage of a 
double wheel track for vehicles, made of smooth 
stone about 1 2 to 1 5 inches wide, and the center 
of this track being paved with ordinary cobble- 
stone. The business houses along the main 
streets are superb structures, and, judging from 
the crowds constantly passing in and out, the 
business transacted must be amazing. 

Everyone seems to be familiar with the great 
cathedral of Milan, and it seems almost superflu- 
ous to attempt more than the mere mention of 
our admiration for it. It occupies the entire 



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square of ground in the center of the city. 
The cathedral of Milan in vastness and magnifi- 
cence of structure is not an unworthy rival of St. 
Peter’s, Rome. It is built throughout of white 
marble and is in every respect one of the most 
impressive church edifices in the world. It was 
begun in the year 1387, and has ever since been 
advancing towards completion, but is not yet fin- 
ished. Its form is that of a Latin cross divided 
into five naves, terminated by an octagonal aspis, 
and supported by 52 octagonal columns of grand 
dimensions. The four columns which support 
the noble cupola are truly gigantic in size. 
The vestibule, or front of the cathedral, is deco- 
rated with five rows of statuary on the center 
entrance and three rows on each of the side 
doors, supported by superbly wrought pedestals 
and capping executed in the pure Gothic style. 
On the frame of each window on either side, 
there are four large statues in richly ornamented 
niches, and the peak of every majestic pilaster 
between the windows, high above the roof, is 
crowned by a grand marble statue. Like the 
city hall at Louvain, of which I attempted to 
give you an idea in my first letter from the con- 
tinent, the disposition of the four thousand six 
hundred statues, in and around the cathedral at 
Milan, is the picturesque history of the old and 



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new testaments, added to which are the statues 
of the saints of the country, and those for whom 
the people here have a special devotion. Taking 
leave of this visit in the fairest of sculptured 
beauty and architectural grandeur, and sincerely 
regretting that the invulnerable heat does not 
permit us to enjoy its admiration for at least one 
week, I hurry to bring you to the church 
founded by St. Ambrose in the 4th century. It 
was thoroughly renovated in the year 1631. 
Fortunately, so many of the ancient epitaphs and 
other relics of the ancient building remain 
imbedded in its walls, that they form a rich 
treasure of early Christian antiquities. Like the 
several churches in Rome, and the Catacombs, 
the church of St. Ambrose is a monumental 
evidence of our Holy Religion, and a monu- 
mental reproach to the hypocritical pretentions 
of all Protestantism. Very reluctantly we bid 
adieu to the charming city, with which we do 
not at all feel as well acquainted as we would 
wish to be. c. h. b. 



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XIII. 



Munich , June 17, 1877. 

We are in Germany, the point aimed for with 
more than ordinary anxiety by our friend, who is 
now my only companion. In my last I indicated 
the indisposition of our friend, which grew more 
alarming as the fatigue of the journey increased. 
Having hurried away from Milan on his account, 
the reverend gentlemen justly feared the delay 
his feeble condition would very probably require, 
and begged to be allowed to proceed on their 
journey. Having become somewhat accustomed 
to the musical sounds of the Italian language, the 
music of the lingo in this country grates 
cruelly on the ear. The Swiss dialect sounds 
broad and coarse, but the native brogue of Wur- 
temburg and Baden is not a whit more polished. 
It would amuse you to see the impatience of our 
friend, who is such an admirer of the German 
tongue, exclaiming: “Well, well! I don’t under- 
stand these people!” Indeed, it required more 
than ordinary attention to decipher the gibberish 
of these Germans. We will first report the 

delightful days spent in Switzerland. Geneva 

06 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT, 1 ” 97 

dates back to the 4th century as a Catholic and 
Episcopal city over wrhich Bishop Isaac of Gen- 
eva presided, and in 450 Pope Leo I. declared 
that this diocese belonged to the ecclesiastical 
province of Vienna. The first cathedral church 
built was begun in 584 on the ruins of a temple 
of Apollo, finished in 1025 during the reign of 
Emperor Conrad II, and dedicated to St. Peter. 
But Calvin, the founder of the Presbyterian sect, 
succeeded in bringing about a decree of the Sen- 
ate, ordering the destruction of the Catholic 
altars, pictures and whatever served to promote 
devotion. In 1558 Calvin declared Geneva the 
“Rome of the reformation,” and the work of 
destroying everything belonging to, and calcu- 
lated to remind the people of the religion of their 
forefathers was vehemently prosecuted. The 
city is divided by the river Rhone into two parts 
— the upper and lower — the lower being the 
ancient city, and the upper being the town of the 
aristocracy. Everything bears testimony of its 
more recent date. In this the several elegant 
hotels are located, and English, French and Ger- 
man are freely spoken, but the French language 
prevails, it being the tongue of the laborers and 
children on the streets. Our hotel is on the foot 
of Lake Geneva. As to width, this lake appears 
insignificant to persons who have grown familiar 



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with and experienced the vast, ocean-like fury cf 
our great lakes in America,. Our little Lake St. 
Clair in Michigan is a gigantic sheet of water 
compared with Lake Geneva. But, being sur- 
rounded by the Jura mountains and the Alps, it 
well deserves the far-famed historic record for 
the superb and majestic mountain sceneries. It 
is enrapturing to contemplate the series of gla- 
ciers crystallizing the summits of the mountains 
as far as the eye can reach, and to behold, in this 
hot season, the brilliant rays flashing from them, 
as if they were crowned with myriads of dia 
monds. A little steamer runs daily excursion 
trips on the lake, and the enjoyment it affords to 
the admirer of Nature’s grandeur beggars 
description. 

The old Cathedral, wrested from the Catholics 
in the revolt of the Reformation, is an unpre- 
tentious, but solid, stone edifice, having two 
square towers in front, and showing great negli- 
gence, on the part of the occupants, in the sad 
decay of the structure. The impiety of the 
reformers did much in obliterating the imprints 
of its devout founders, yet the monuments and 
other decorations of its primitive beauty publish 
the historic antiquity of the building and the 
true faith that consecrated it to the service of 
God. Ascending the hill, not a great distance 



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from the old cathedral, we met a small church, 
which has a grand portico entrance, adorned 
with Catholic statuary, which proclaim the silent 
record that this house of worship was taken from 
the Catholics. This the name of the street on 
the left side confirms, for it is called Purgatory 
street, the belief in which the reformers depre- 
cated and all Protestantism denies. The street 
of Paradise passes in the rear of the church, 
which seems to suggest the faith that from 
the “ Street of Purgatory” you enter the “ Street 
of Heaven,” as the soul goes from Purgatory 
into Heaven. 

The new Cathedral, built in the upper or new 
portion of the city, is the fruit of the zeal of the 
present Bishop, Monsigneur Mermillot, who col- 
lected the funds for .its erection in Belgium, Hol- 
land and France. It is the Italian or new style 
of Gothic architecture, but, withal, a graceful 
and beautiful structure, the steeple being 
unfinished. You surely remember that part 
of the history of our own day, that the infidels, 
led by the Apostate Hyacinth (M. Loison), 
having succeeded in sending Bishop Mermillot 
into exile by the act of the Swiss Legislature, 
secured, by the same authority, this new 
cathedral, as well as the old, and installed the 
renegade and apostate priest as their preacher. 



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Such acts of impiety and shameless robbery need 
no comment, and brand the pretended religion of 
the Reformers as the work of sin, of which the 
“Father of Lies” is the author. Hence, it does 
not astonish even the casual observer, that there 
is no religion among either the higher or lower 
class of inhabitants of Geneva — yes, not even a 
religious pretention or external show. There is 
an insignificant chapel on the southern bank of 
the lake, at the extreme end of the lower, or old, 
city of Geneva, which the Catholics are permitted 
to frequent for mass on Sundays and holy days; 
yet this toleration is only a silent one, the law 
prohibiting any priest officiating in the canton of 
Geneva. If, in any Catholic country, such laws 
of intolerance were enacted against Protestant- 
ism, or any other of the many religious “isms,” 
the. howl of persecution, of tyranny, etc., etc., 
would echo from pole to pole, and the Apoca- 
lypse would be searched anew for caricaturing 
the Catholic church. But the impiety and rob- 
bery of infidelity is devoutly reverenced by all 
Protestantism; not a cry of shame is heard; not 
a word of condemnation is recorded for the 
future historian. We drop the subject in indig- 
nation and shame. 

Leaving Geneva, by rail, for Basel, we were 
enchanted for four hours by the magnificent 



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glaciers which grace the banks of Lake Geneva. 
At times they seemed very near, — two, three 
and more summits of mountains overtowering 
each other, all clad in the grand splendor of 
hyemal grandeur, defying the power of the sun 
while sporting his rays in brilliant lustre. Again 
they appeared, as if at a great distance, embrac- 
ing the flood of luminous clouds, and terminating 
in the bosom of the firmament. We were 
delighted, in our disappointment, at finding 
Freiburg and Berne, in Switzerland, such 
thriving cities; more particulary the latter, 
which is truly not of small note. The beauty of 
the situation, the elegance of the dwellings, the 
splendid churches and the imposing public build- 
ings bear abundant evidences that there is life 
and prosperity within its walls. It seemed a 
pity that we could not afford the time for a 
longer stay. We cannot forego stating that the 
railroad stations in Switzerland are entirely free 
from the wretched class of idlers, bummers and 
loungers, which infest them in almost every 
other country. We arrived at Basel at 8:15 
p. M., and, having been liberated from the dis- 
tressing livery of dust, as well as refreshed by a 
late dinner, the desire for rest precluded the 
inclination to explore the city. But, rising early 
in the morning and strolling leisurely along the 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



streets, which are narrow and not too clean, we 
were pleased by meeting an old-fashioned, solid, 
and well-to-do class of citizens, evidently in the 
steady pursuits of daily life and sober and earnest 
industry. The places of business presented a 
similar appearance. The houses, their archi- 
tecture and all their surroundings indicated that 
they had centuries of existence, or had not been 
greatly influenced by the innovations of the 
present. A venerable-looking Irish gentleman, 
whom we met, seeing a stork’s nest on the gable 
end of an old church, and having inquired in vain 
what kind of a church it was, remarked: “Here 
it is no easy matter to tell which is which.” The 
impression made on the traveler is that here, 
too, religion is below par, for no person manifests 
the least enthusiasm on the subject. The 
cathedral dates back to the nth century (1019), 
and is, perhaps, the most imposing edifice in 
Switzerland, having a tower 250 feet high. 

Stuttgart (pronounced Stuggart), the capital 
of Wurtemberg, is beautifully situated in the 
valley of the Nesen, and surrounded by 
extensive vineyards in the highest state of 
cultivation. This circumstance greatly inter- 
ested Mr. M., who, as you know, does not con- 
sider his vineyard at home of little importance. 
This city presents an active appearance, particu- 



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larly if you visit the extensive market-place in 
the very heart of the metropolis. The buildings 
which surround it are not remarkably ancient, 
yet built in the ancient style, which tends to give 
to the whole a peculiar charm. The “ Stift 
kirche” is a grand old Gothic structure, though 
not remarkably large in size. “ Hospital 
kirche” is Gothic, but not at all handsome; and 
the other churches, as far as we could see, are of 
modern architecture, and resemble our churches 
at home. The manufactories are many, but 
none of them are conducted on a grand scale. 
The life and activity in this city is truly sur- 
prising. 

Freiburg, in Baden, is a city which charms the 
visitor, both on account of its antiquities and the 
many points of interest it unfolds, and not less on 
account of the picturesque and fertile country 
surrounding it. The houses, old and new, are 
substantially built; fountains of purest water are 
frequent; the streets are generally winding and 
narrow, with but a few exceptions of wide thor- 
oughfares. There are two large and beautiful 
public squares for the recreation and enjoyment 
of the citizens. The Freiburg cathedral is a 
large, grand, Gothic structure, built of red sand- 
stone in the form of a cross, with a magnificent 
portal, richly sculptured, and surmounted by a 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



beautiful Gothic tower, having exquisite but- 
tresses, and is 380 feet high. The churches, 
except St. Martin’s, are generally handsome in 
style and tastefully decorated, but of modern 
architecture. The business aspect is not very 
striking — rather dull, excepting the weekly mar- 
ket, which is the most interesting we have seen 
on our journey, not even excepting Italy. It is 
numerously attended by the Scharzwadler, 
whose dress, language, wares, etc., are a marvel- 
lous curiosity, and, if it were not impolite, one 
would stand for hours in the enjoyment of the 
sights. But they are a well-behaved people, 
though a little noisy in striking their bargains. 

The city of Ulm, on the eastern border of 
Wurtemburg, is a city of less note to persons in 
America, because less known than Freiburg and 
other cities, yet it abounds in antiquities, and its 
history as an ancient “Freetown” has, perhaps, no 
rival, it having become so wealthy that its gold 
was proverbially said to rule the world. Its gen- 
eral appearance is more striking on account of 
the antique appearance of the houses than the 
thrift of and business activity of its inhabitants. 

The large and lofty cathedral is in the old 
Gothic style, honored with the moss of ages 
and bears the external evidence that it has 
braved the storms of centuries. The center 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 105 

tower of this cathedral is covered, just above 
the gable of the pointed roof of the church, 
and the mechanics are hard at work on the two 
turrets at the end of the body of the church, and 
beginning of the semi-circle of the sanctuary. 
It is to be dedicated and consecrated in a few 
weeks and the approaching event engages the 
heart and mind of every inhabitant. The two 
other churches we visited are of no extraordinary 
size, but both are handsome. The artistic dis- 
play in the stores is of no mean order, and the 
variety great. You remember that most of my 
former parishoners in the mission of Columbus, 
O., hailed from Bavaria, and often treated us to 
all that is noble and grand in Augsburg. But, 
knowing the infirmity of people thinking their 
native land the “Ne plus ultra” in the world, 
my anticipations of this city did not run too high. 
But we learned with great pleasure that my 
surmises proved a great mistake, for it is 
truly a grand old town, situated on rising 
ground in the fertile plain formed by the junction 
of the two beautiful rivers — the Lech on the east 
and the Wertach on the west side of the city. 
The Maximilian strasse, into which the traveler 
enters from the extreme southern end of the city, 
coming away from the railway station, is a thor- 
oughfare compared with which Broadway in 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



New York is insignificant. Driving along this 
charming highway from the “ Maximilian platz ” 
to the cathedral, nearly in the centre of the old 
city, the wealth and prosperity of the inhabitants 
is unfolded to view. The houses are old, large 
and lofty, and many of them have carved, pointed 
and scrolled fronts, adorned with frescoes repre- 
senting scriptural scenes. 

The cathedral seems to be an irregular Gothic 
structure of the 15th century, and contains many 
treasures of art. The church of St. Ulrich is one 
of considerable note, having a tower 350 feet 
high, from which a charming view of the city 
and surrounding country is obtained. The old 
Lutheran church is so close to it that it seems to 
be almost under the same roof. Our short stay 
did not permit us to visit the several other 
churches, nor the many public buildings and 
extensive cotton and other factories — one of the 
cotton factories employs over two thousand 
hands. 

But, before closing this letter, I beg to tell you 
of a short visit to Aschaffenburg, of which our 
friends in Columbus, O., told us so many won- 
derful things. The people here firmly believe 
that this town dates back to the Roman times, 
and the name has its origin in Ptolemy’s “Asti- 
burgum.” Be that as it may, it is a beautiful 



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city and presents many points of noteworthy 
interest. The most conspicuous church edifice, 
built in 974, is replete with fine sculptured monu- 
ments and elegant paintings — one by Grunewald, 
of renown, and another by* Albert Diirer, whose 
fame is familiar. There are many more churches 
and public buildings deserving of notice. Among 
the latter it annoys the Catholic, visiting what is 
called the “Royal Palace,” to learn that it was 
originally built by the Archbishop of Mainz for 
an Episcopal residence. It is called “Johannis- 
bergh,” has five elegant towers and is a majestic 
palace. The city’s business aspect is lively, and 
a healthy state of prosperity seems to prevail. 

C. H. B. 



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XIV. 



Munich , June iS, i8jj. 

I take great pleasure in resuming the report of 
the most important event of our journey, taking 
it for granted that you share in all that interested 
us. 

We have come to the bosom of “Father 
Rhine” and are in the city of Mainz. It is situ- 
ated partly on a flat and partly on an acclivity 
rising up gradually from the Rhine in the form 
of an ampitheatre. The houses are generally 
lofty, and the wide streets, with frequent open 
squares, give the whole a venerable and noble 
appearance. Many of the streets are] narrow 
enough to exclude light and air; several parts of 
the town are dark, gloomy and unwholesome 
looking. The promenade, called the “Neue 
Anlage,” outside of the old city, is spacious and 
well laid out, kept in splendid repair, and suc- 
ceeds in inviting great numbers of the inhabi 
tants every evening. It commands a delightful 
view of the city and the charming scenes of the 
surrounding districts. The first church visited 

on our arrival was St. Christopher’s, which hap- 

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pens to be near our hotel and near the Rhine. 
It is of quite ancient date, surrounded by an 
immense wall of an unsightly form ; the exterior 
is like a great heap of stone. The interior, how- 
ever, makes amends for the exterior; it is truly 
handsome and inspires devotion. Calling at the 
pastoral residence, we were informed by a very 
clerical-looking porter that the reverend pastor 
was not at home, and the reply to our question 
when we might see him at home, was: “I am 
sorry to say that I don’t know.” Having pre- 
sented my card and being in the act of going 
away, this mysterious porter called us, saying: 
“Excuse me, please; but call around again in 
ten minutes.” 

Thanking him for the encouragement, we 
departed. We promenaded the street during the 
allotted time, and returning to meet the reverend 
pastor, I remarked to Mr. M.: “If that porter is 
not a live Jesuit, he has surely missed his voca- 
tion.” The old man smiled at the remark, and 
shook his head significantly, as if he thought it a 
little profane. The ringing of the door bell was 
promptly answered by the same porter, who ush- 
ered us into the presence of the pastor. He is a 
handsome figure, tall, veil proportioned, middle 
aged, gracious in his manner and so cordial that 
we at once felt quite at home. As soon as I had 



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1 10 “A S THE BISHOP SA W IT." 

stated my desire to say my mass in his church 
every morning during our stay in this city, he 
astonished me by his frank acceptance, bidding 
me heartily welcome. We agreed on the hour, 
eight in the morning. But my surprise was still 
greater on the following morning, when the rev- 
erend pastor met us at the door, conducted us 
into the sanctuary and put us in charge of two 
seminarians, who led me to the “Prie dieu,” orna- 
mented in Episcopal colors. The bells of the 
steeples were ringing the merry peals, informing 
the devout of an extraordinary service, and in a 
very short time the church was crowded to its 
utmost capacity. The altar was decked in fes- 
tive attire, the candles lit shed a flood of light in 
the rather dark sanctuary, the organ poured forth 
its volumes of melodious sounds. As soon as 
mass had begun, the choir of children sang most 
charming hymns. The reverend pastor in sur- 
plice and stole, attended by the two seminarians 
and half a dozen acolytes, served my mass from 
beginning to end. The same solemnity was 
repeated every successive morning. This was 
the only pastor in all Germany who had not been 
intimidated into servile fear by the tyranny of 
Bismarck. His name is Rev. Graf Von Gallen, 
truly a noble man in every sense of the word. 
This he proved, by the kindness extended to us 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA IV ITT 111 

as in no other city, offering himself to he our 
guide in visiting the several churches. Here it 
may be pardoned if I take the liberty of record- 
ing what seemed very strange to us, but, no 
doubt, is dictated by the custom of the continent, 
that whilst we received a cordial welcome at the 
hands of all, yet no one invited us to share their 
hospitality, no one cared or seemed to care 
whether we saw anything or not, no one gave 
himself the least trouble about us; except during 
the few minutes we engaged their time, no one 
appeared to be sufficiently our equal to show the 
least concern. Rev. Graf Von Gallen, and a rev- 
erend curate (whose name I do not at this 
moment recall) in Munster, Westphalia, were 
the only exceptions, and, if it happen that either 
of them should pay me a visit in America, their 
gentlemanly conduct and kindness to us will be 
repaid with interest. 

Having had the pleasure of meeting his Lord- 
ship, Mgr. Von Kettler, in Rome, we repaired to 
the Episcopal palace, the first morning after our 
arrival in Mainz, to pay our respects, but were 
sadly surprised, being told that his Lordship had 
not returned, but was sick in a Franciscan con- 
vent in Bavaria. It proved to be his fatal sick- 
ness. He was brought home a corpse, R. I. P. 

The cathedral is an immense structure erected 



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112 "AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 

of red sandstone, but does not impress the visitor 
as a handsome or grand church edifice. This, no 
doubt, is greatly owing to the fact that every 
available spot around the church is occupied by 
stores of every shape and form. Our reverend 
guide explained to us that the leasing of ground 
had become an unfortunate necessity, to raise a 
revenue, both for the current expenses of the 
cathedral, and the finishing and repairing of the 
church itself. Here in this cathedral we saw for 
the first time pews in the church, such as are 
general in America. But they are very unsightly 
compared to ours, the backs of them being very 
high and heavy and faced with brass sheeting. 
There is a double row of pews through the entire 
center of the main body of the church, built on a 
wooden floor, laid on the stone pavement of the 
church. The interior of the church is handsome, 
the altars are grand, the sanctuary is spacious 
and imposing. It was begun in 978, and is not 
completed. St. Stephen’s church is built on the 
summit of a considerable hill, from which you 
have a superb view of the city, and can contem- 
plate the serene majesty of the Rhine and the 
opposite banks. This church is not remarkably 
large, but a gem of beauty in every particular, 
which prompted me to remark that I should feel 
happy if we had such a cathedral in Detroit. 



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The several other churches are more or less 
handsome, and some of them are enriched by 
artistic treasures, but, having enjoyed the elegant 
symmetry and the lofty grace of the Gothic 
architecture in St. Stephen’s, they all furnish but 
a faint charm. Our visit to Mainz was more 
than ordinarily agreeable, owing to the unceasing 
kindness of Rev. Graf Von Gallen, to whom we 
feel greatly indebted. Adieu! c. h. b. 



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XV. 



Munich , June IQ, i8yj. 

You have been somewhat puzzled, no doubt, 
that we have remained so long in this city. In 
my letters you have not been informed of our 
impressions. I have purposely refrained from 
adverting to this city, because I desire to devote 
an entire letter to it, and here it is: 

We arrived by railroad, in the evening, at 
about half-past seven, and accepted the recom- 
mendation on the omnibus, “The Four Seasons,” 
in the German, French and English languages, 
which carried us to a splendid hotel, on the Max- 
imilian strasse, where we were assigned princely 
apartments, and received the kindest attention. 
It being Saturday, courtesy required that we 
should announce ourselves immediately to the 
Reverend Pastor of the nearest church. But, as 
we were “Pilgrims in Israel,” we were obliged 
to address the gentleman with the gold border 
around his cap, called “Portier,” who, like the 
hotel clerk in our country, is the man of uni- 
versal intelligence on the continent. He is, 
invariably, polite and ever attentive to the many 

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wants of the guests, and, in this case, addressing 
the “Portier,” he lifted his cap, bowed, and 
informed us of the proximity of several Catholic 
churches. Begging him to send one of the boys 
with us to show the way, he promptly called one 
of the waiter-boys and directed him to the 
“Lieb Frauen Kirche,” but he kindly volun- 
teered the information that u It would be hardly 
worth while going so far, as the masses were all 
over.” As soon as we had fairly started on the 
way, I ventured to remark to the boy: u Is there 
no church nearer than the 4 Lieb Frauen 
Kirche?’” “O, yes; the Franciscan church is 
much nearer. They will be glad to have you go 
there.” In a few minutes we were at the convent 
gate, our message delivered, and we returned to 
the hotel for the night’s rest. Sunday morning, 
at seven o’clock, one of the finest carriages, drawn 
by a pair of spirited black horses, dressed in 
magnificent harness, and a driver in gorgeous 
livery, stood at the hotel door to bring us to the 
Franciscan church A dense crowd awaited our 
arrival at the church door, and, being in proper 
uniform, the people fell on their knees as soon as 
our carriage stopped. The Reverend Father 
Superior, accompanied by the Reverend Fathers 
and acolytes, standing at the entrance of the 
vestibule of the church, asked the Bishop’s 



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blessing. This done, the procession moved into 
the church, and the immediate preparations for 
mass were made. After mass the Reverend 
Superior invited us into the convent for break- 
fast, and here a venerable brother introduced 
himself as one of the former Franciscan Brothers 
at St. Francis, in Cincinnati, O., and it was a 
pleasure to listen to his conversations about the 
“ Queen City” and his interest in American 
affairs. Having delayed more than an hour in 
the convent, we supposed, of course, that the 
people had dispersed, but we were greatly 
astonished on seeing still hundreds surrounding 
the carriage, waiting for a parting blessing. The 
Sunday morning had revealed our “colors” to all, 
high and low, in “ The Four Seasons,” and, from 
this out, I was addressed as “My Lord Bishop” 
and “Your Excellency,” and a keen rivalry had 
been awakened among the waiters. 

As early as politeness permitted, we called on 
His Grace, the Archbishop, but not finding him 
at home, we began our explorations in the city 
on Monday morning. The cathedral is a large, 
but not a beautiful or imposing edifice. The 
interior is rather pretty, the altars are many and 
handsome, and the statuary artistic. 

We visited the church of the Holy Ghost, St. 
Peter’s, St. Michael’s, etc., etc., which are all 



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substantial and, more or less, handsome buildings. 
But, in my humble opinion, this city has no 
church edifice of more than ordinary artistic 
merit. The visit to the profane was now in 
order, and we proceeded to the “Glyptolhek,” 
which is a superb and imposing edifice, and con- 
tains a rare collection of ancient and modern 
statuary. A day spent inspecting its treasures 
gives you but an imperfect idea of the many 
works of art exhibited. The following day was 
spent in the “Pinakothek,” a gallery containing 
many of the finest paintings of the world, — the 
grand collection, representing every prominent 
school of art in every age of the world. It is 
second to none of the many art galleries we 
have seen, though it is not so systematically 
arranged as the Roman. This, as mentioned 
before, exhibits, at a glance, the pre-eminence of 
each country, having a separate hall for each 
nation, with the proper inscription over the 
entrance. Here, as well as in Rome and Flor- 
ence, the “ Pinakothek ” is crowded with aspiring 
artists, engaged in copying the masterpieces. 
Many, however, were at work on the “artistic,” 
no doubt, by engagements, or upon the supposi- 
tion of a more ready sale, because of inferior 
value, etc. It seemed a pity that we could not, 
at least, afford a week in studying the genius of 



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118 "AS THE BISHOP SAW IT." 

art so richly represented here, and we left the 
“ Pinakothek ” with feelings of regret. It strikes 
a visitor forcibly that the “Beer Gardens,” the 
“Beer Restaurant,” the “Beer Stores,” etc., are a 
great feature in this city. Like the peanut, candy, 
orange, lemon and fruit stands on the street cor- 
ners in our larger cities in America, the small 
beer and wine stalls occupy every available nook 
and corner of the streets in Munich, under the 
honorable title of “Drink Hall.” As it is no dis- 
grace for a gentleman or lady in America to stop 
at a nut-stand, to have his pocket filled, or to 
crack the nuts, and enjoy the orange as he goes 
along the streets, so it is no dishonor for a 
well-dressed gentleman, or a lady in silk and satin, 
to step up to the “ Drink Stand ” and enjoy the 
“mug of beer” right there. One of the finest 
public squares on the continent is near the 
Palace. It is adorned with rarest plants, and 
surrounded by an open and richly-decorated 
arcade. The several smaller public squares, the 
many gardens of public resort, and the prom- 
enades are kept in perfect order, and are deco- 
rated with statuary of no mean artistic merit. 
In the line of manufactures, Munich has gained 
considerable renown — mathematical, optical and 
surgical instruments, gold and silver lace, jew- 
elry, glass, bells, musical instruments, etc., etc. 



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The week spent in this city did not allow us 
any rest except after dark, where propriety did 
not allow a “Bishop” to enjoy the convivial 
scenes in the several places of public assemblies. 
Of course, Mr. M. frequently stepped out to the 
royal “Gualla” to enjoy the original way of 
securing and drinking a mug of beer, whilst I 
enjoyed the pleasure of a chat with you, and the 
dear ones in America. On returning he would 
laugh heartily and shout out: “By jingo! it’s too 
funny! Just come for a moment to see the crowd 
of men, women and children assembled in the 
‘Gualla;’ you never saw the like,” etc., etc. My 
answer, invariably, was: “No, no, old man, that 
wouldn’t do,” and we would quietly settle down 
to an Havana. c. h. b. 



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XVI. 



Cologne , June 24, i8jj. 

We availed ourselves of the first point for 
obtaining one of the best steamers on the Rhine, 
what the people here call the “Fast boat,” but 
it is not as good as a first-class ferry-boat in our 
country. The morning being bright and pleasant, 
we joined the company of travelers, who had 
seated themselves on the upper deck of the 
steamer for the more perfect enjoyment of the 
scenery along the historic river. Every traveler 
on the Rhine seems to indulge in ecstatic admi- 
ration of all that is unraveled to view, and as the 
scenes follow in rapid succession, the enthusiasm 
grows in the novelty. This is particularly true 
when the romantic landscapes, so richly inter- 
spersed with ruins of every description, come to 
view as you glide down the stream between Bin- 
gen and Coblentz, where many stately mansions 
and castles add to the grandeur of the scenery. 
At the risk, however, of being adjudged of not 
having a just appreciation of the sublime, I ven- 
ture a deviation from the general key-note that 

the unparalleled majesty of Father Rhine can 

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only be seen and appreciated by those who have 
not been over-awed by the grandeur and majesty 
of the mountain scenes of Switzerland and Italy. 
The frequent towns and cities along the banks of 
the Rhine lend the scenery a cheerfulness which 
you miss in Italy, and, in a great measure, in 
Switzerland, and the many spacious and inviting 
villas situated in the valleys, surmounted by 
the innumerable varieties of gardens and vine- 
yards on the mountain slopes challenge the weary 
traveler to enjoyment in nature’s garden of 
unsurpassed beauty. It would seem that Father 
Rhine had grown jealous of our want of apprecia- 
tion of its vast grandeur, so brilliantly illumined 
by the flood of rays from the noonday sun; a 
brisk breeze, followed quickly by a gentle gale, 
cast a sombre cloud over the scenes, which trans- 
formed the whole into a mysterious, awe-inspiring 
grandeur, that could only be increased by the 
heavy thunder-claps and the vivid flashes of light- 
ning, which send a thrill through every frame, 
yet the declaration was unanimous that the scene 
was unparalleled. 

As soon as the steamer had passed the sharp 
angle in the river and left the town of Brauboch 
on the right shore, the city of Coblentz was in 
sight at the distance of about five miles. It is 
beautifully situated in the basin formed by the 



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"AS THE BISHOP SAW IT." 



confluence of the river Moselle with the Rhine — 
hence the ancient name, “Confluentes,” from 
which the modernized “ Coblentz ” is derived. In 
the new portion of the city, called “Clemen- 
stadt,” the streets are spacious and airy, the 
buildings comfortable looking and handsome, the 
whole making a very favorable impression. But 
in the old town the contrary is pretty general. 
The church of St. Castor, built in the park of 
the confluence ©f the two rivers, dates back to 
A. D. 836, and is the place where the grandsons 
of Charlemagne divided the vast empire into 
Germany, France and Italy in 843. This church 
is rich in ancient monuments, and has a beautiful 
altar piece, the history of which we did not 
learn. 

We met some travelers who had come down 
the River Moselle, and confidently maintained 
that the scenes on its banks surpass those of the 
Rhine in grandeur. 

The name of the city of Bonn is quite familiar 
to Americans — at least, those of German descent 
— who are treated to a variety of incidental infor- 
mation about it in the German newspapers, many 
of the editors having been students of the famous 
University of Bonn. I confess that I felt consid- 
erable interest in seeing the city, and studying 
for myself the various points of note, so much 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 123 

eulogized and richly colored by the admirers of 
their “Alma Mater.” It is pleasantly situated 
on a gentle acclivity, which gives it a cheerful 
and pleasing appearance. The streets are rather 
narrow, indifferently lighted and aired, yet, from 
its delightful situation, it is one of the most 
desirable places of residence on the Rhine. It 
enjoys the reputation of a high antiquity, it having 
been a fortification of the ancient Romans (Bonna 
ad Rhenum), the seat of many wars, and often 
destroyed and rebuilt. The last time it was 
restored in the 4th century by the Emperor Julian. 
But it derives its great celebrity from the 
University, which has had many distinguished 
men among its professors. The average number 
of students is between six and eight hundred, 
engaged in the study of Theology, Law, Medi- 
cine and Philosophy. The building of the Univer- 
sity is rather an immense pile than elegant or 
grand, but, being situated on a spledid elevation, 
it looks imposing at the distance. 

Bonn is the birthplace of the celebrated 
musician, Beethoven. It has eight churches, 
but of no extraordinary architectural merit. 

The city of Cologne occupies the site of an 
ancient city, dating back some thirty years before 
the birth of Christ. It being the birthplace 
of the Empress Aggrippina, she prevailed on 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



her husband to establish a colony there in the 
year 51 A. D., which was called “Colonie 
Aggrippina,” from which it retains the present 
name. In 870 it became incorporated with 
Germany, and continued a most flourishing city 
for several centuries, numbering, at one time, 
in the twelfth century, it is said, over 150,000 
inhabitants. But the rising maritime power of 
Holland and England, closing the navigation of 
the Rhine in the 16th century, greatly reduced 
its prosperity and importance in the commercial 
world. The public buildings are many, and 
some of considerable activity and rich in monu- 
ments, but the most remarkable are the 
churches. Of course, you expect me to begin 
with the “Dom” or cathedral, which, as you 
know, was commenced by Charlemagne in 814, 
and, it is believed, will be completed in a few 
years. But the foundation of the present grand 
structure was not laid until 1248, upon the site of 
the old one, which had been destroyed by fire. 
The many obstacles to the progress of the build- 
ing, especially the want of necessary funds for 
this gigantic work, caused centuries to roll by, 
generation upon generation to pass away, without 
even a reasonable hope of seeing this cherished 
sanctuary completed. It is argued by some 
travelers that it is inferior in grandeur to the 



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cathedral in Milan, but, in my opinion, this of 
Cologne surpasses it in loftiness and grandeur. 
The fact that it is composed of sandstone, 
whereas that of Milan is of pure white marble, 
at first sight does not so pleasingly impress the 
visitor. I will not attempt a detailed description 
of the “Dorn,” but venture the assertion that, in 
vastness of design, in beauty of Gothic archi- 
tecture, in chasteness of execution, and in 
imposing grandeur as a whole, it is second to 
no church edifice in the world. 

My own name invited me to the shrine of the 
Magi, the “ Holy Three Kings,” whose remains 
are deposited in the monument, erected by Catho- 
lic piety in the Dom of Cologne. The pious 
tradition furnishes the names of Melchior, Cas- 
par and Balthazar, of whom Caspar is said to 
have been the younger in age. By this same 
source we are informed that the mortal remains 
of the Magi were translated to Constantinople in 
the early ages of Christianity, later carried to 
Milan, and in the twelfth century, 1162, they 
were removed to Cologne by Frederic Barba- 
rossa. In the shrine of gold in the cathedral the 
skulls of the Magi, with the inscription of their 
respective names, are exposed to view, and to 
the veneration of the faithful. In this same 
monumental reliquary are exposed the mitres, 



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120 “AS THE BISHOP SAW IT.'' 

croziers, etc., of several of the first and saintly 
Prelates of Cologne. 

St. Peter’s church, in Cologne, is not a 
remarkable structure, but of great interest to the 
lover of art, on account of the famous altar-piece 
representing the crucifixion of St. Peter the 
Apostle, painted and presented to the church by 
Rubens, as a memento of his baptism in that 
church. 

St. Ursula’s church is remarkable as the 
immense reliquary of the 11,000 virgins and 
martyrs, the companions of St. Ursula. Much 
has been said, pro and contra, in relation to the 
tradition of the martyrdom of St. Ursula, and 
the eleven thousand virgin martyrs, but I beg to 
offer what Binterim, who is an acknowledged 
authority, gives, i. e. : “After the battle at 
Cholans, in 451, many women, thousands in 
number, took to flight to escape the brutality of 
the Huns, led by Attilla, the scourge. At this 
time the occupation of Britain, by the Anglo- 
Saxon, took place, which, according to Bede, 
compelled thousands to seek safety on the con- 
tinent. This would account for the great num- 
ber of virgins in company with Ursula. But 
they fell into the hands of the Huns, either in 
the act of crossing the Rhine, or after the seige 
of Cologne.” Be this satisfactory or not, for my 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA 11 V IT.” 127 

part I became perfectly convinced when I saw, 
with my own eyes, the walls of St. Ursula’s 
church, literally lined with the skulls of these 
virgin martyrs, and the sanctuary decorated 
with the bones of these saints. From the 
moment you enter the church everything, from 
the tombs along the walls and ceiling of the 
temple, from the side walls to the sanctuary, 
everything bears testimony, — the very skulls and 
innumerable bones exposed to view speak, in 
solemn tones, of the grace, of the victory 
achieved by the heroic virgin army. The lan- 
guage of the Protestant American young lady, 
who, having carefully examined all, said, in the 
“Golden Chamber,” the special shrine of St. 
Ursula: “After all this, who can doubt the 
history of the Ursula martyrs?” “It would be 
downright impiety.” This sentiment expresses 
the conviction with which every sincere soul 
leaves St. Ursula’s church. I bring along with 
me two of the bones taken from the tomb nearest 
the altar, on the epistle side, properly authen- 
ticated. 

St. Gereon’s church we found draped in deep 
mourning, and the corpse of the deceased rever- 
end pastor clad in sacerdotal robes, and placed 
on a catafalque before the main altar. We 
learned from the sexton that the same venerable 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



pastor, last evening, whilst kneeling before 
the main altar and saying the rosary aloud 
for the faithful who crowd the church on such 
occasions, was seized by a dreadful pain and 
fell dead. 

St. Gregory of Tours relates that there was a 
beautiful basilica in Cologne in the 6th century, 
erected by St. Helena in honor of the martyrs of 
the Thebean Legion under the leadership of 
Gereon. St. Norbert desiring to abtain some 
relics of the martyrs, some of the tombs 
(“sarcophagi”) were opened in the year 1121 
in the presence of many witnesses, as attested by 
Rudolph, abbot of St. Pantalion, and they found 
the remains still wrapped in the purple military 
cloak, marked with a large cross, and a piece of 
sod, saturated with blood, at their side. This is 
verified by the Roman martyrology (1589), in 
which we read: “At Cologne, on the 10th of 
October, are commemorated the martyr St. 
Gereon, with 318 others, who patiently sub- 
mitted their heads to the sword, in defense of 
true piety in the persecution of Emperor Maxi- 
milian, in the third century.” 

Before taking leave of Cologne, I beg to men- 
tion St. Cumbert’s church, which has a magnifi- 
cent altar, — a beautiful imitation of the grand 
altar in St. Peter’s, Rome. 



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There are many other churches with their 
treasures, which we visited, and deserve mention, 
but I must forbear, having spent this evening to 
a late hour in writing this imperfect sketch of the 
most important events. c. H. B. 



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XVII. 



Osnabruck, June 2g, i8jj. 

We have arrived at the extreme northern ter 
minus of our contemplated trip on the continent. 
The lesson received from Mr. M.’s experience in 
his native parish prompted the determination that 
it would be folly for me to visit Essen in the 
grand duchy of Oldenburg. For, although he 
was a young man of twenty years when he left 
his native country, yet not a single person recog- 
nized him, and but a few “ancients” remained 
who remember his existence after many detailed 
explanations. Even the venerable “Rev. Kaplan,” 
who had been his teacher in the rudiments of 
Latin, coolly remarked upon the introduction of 
his former pupil: “How should I know you?” 
This disappointment brought tears to Mr. M.’s 
eyes. Why should I venture on a similar disap- 
pointment, it being quite sure that no person in 
Essen could have a faint recollection of the boy 
of twelve years, who, in company with his par- 
ents, left for America in the last week of Febru- 
ary, 1839; more especially since no immediate 
relative survived our return to the native land? 

130 



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-AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 131 

The city of Osnabruck does not present much 
of general interest, though in antiquity it ranks 
among the historic cities. The Episcopal see 
was founded by Charlemagne in 810, and the 
cathedral, built in the 12th century, is a large 
structure of the Byzantine style of architecture. 
The main alt.ar in the cathedral is of recent date, 
consists of a plain marble altar table, supported 
by beautiful marble columns, a graceful taber- 
nacle in the center, with two steps for candle- 
sticks on each side, and over this altar is a splen- 
did canopy, resting on four grand columns of 
marble. It stands in front of the choir, i. e., 
the chapel, in which there is a beautiful throne for 
the Bishop, and the canons assemble for the 
recital of the office; thus the celebrant singing, 
or saying mass, is in full view of the dignitaries as 
well as of the faithful in the body of the church. 
As you turn to the walls of the epistle side of the 
church, the eyes rest on a simple monument over 
the saintly remains of the hermit, who, in the 
days of primitive fervor, had immured himself in 
a cell on the spot where, now, one of the steeples 
of the cathedral stands. Upon this monument 
rests the “Block of wood” which served the her- 
mit as a pillow, and the iron discipline used in 
religious vigor for mortification. On a slight 
elevation hangs the “Iron shirt” or bodice made 



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132 "AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 

of heavy wire. We visited the several other 
churches, but none of them are more than of 
ordinary beauty of style or size. In passing from 
the main street into one of the narrower alleys, 
we noticed a great many houses bearing the year 
1500 and 1600. The peculiarity of these ancient 
buildings is chiefly that they are five or six 
stories high, the first two or three stories forming 
the body of the house, and the other three stories 
are under the roof. Each of these houses has an 
inscription on the front gable end, generally in 
the Latin, but occasionally in the old German 
language. They are mostly quotations from the 
Bible and always end with year, “Anno Domini ” 
1500 or 1600, whatever the particular year of the 
century it happened to be, being added. 

Our uncle, Rev. Otto H. Borgess, having fin- 
ished his studies in the Theological Seminary of 
Munster, I felt considerable interest in the many 
wonders so frequently rehearsed by him, and 
others, who, like him, seemed to think Munster 
the greatest city in the world. It existed in the 
time of the reign of Charlemagne, but was evi- 
dently of minor importance in its early history. 
It was once a strongly fortified city, with eight 
massive gates, but the fortifications have been 
leveled and nothing remains of them except the 
delightful promenades around the city. On the 



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133 



main streets the business houses are full Gothic 
structures, provided with arcades to support the 
upper stories. This furnishes a charming side- 
walk on either side of the street, shielding 
against the burning sun or the pelting rain, and 
provides the shopkeepers a place for a fine dis- 
play of their wares. 

The cathedral is built in the Gothic style of 
architecture, is a large building and has the 
appearance of belonging to antiquity, but I could 
not ascertain the particulars of the date. The 
church of St. Lambert, which is now being 
extensively repaired, is a grand Gothic edifice, 
and has a tower 400 feet high. It leans so much 
to one side that its fall seems so imminent to 
strangers that there is no comfort in looking at 
it. But in that condition it has braved the 
storms of centuries. The church has become 
historic from the three iron cages, which have 
remained suspended, from about the center of the 
tower, since the year 1536. The excitement of 
the reformation had crazed the 'Ana Baptist 
leaders — John Von Leyden, Bernard Knipper- 
dolling and Bernard Krecthing — so that, under 
the pretext of religous reform and the inspira- 
tion of the Holy Ghost, they taught the wildest 
doctrines, practiced the grossest abominations, 
and became barbarous and shameless in their 



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Iu4 “AS THE BISHOP SA IV I TP 

public conduct. Admonitions to recall them to 
the paths of virtue, the threats to punish them 
for their flagrant violations of law and social 
decency, were not only in vain, but responded by 
those crazed reformers in publicly calling on the 
people for an insurrection and revolt against 
legitimate authority. Such repeated acts of 
violence demanded their arrest and trial for 
high treason. The three, having been con- 
demned to death, were imprisoned in the “iron 
cages,” and suspended, about 200 feet from the 
ground, in the tower pf St. Lambert’s church 
until the day of their ^executioft The house in 
which John Von Leyden lived is still shown in 
the market-place. The city hall, noted for 
having the articles of peace signed in it in 1648, 
is an imposing Gothic building with a magnifi- 
cent colonade running around the lower story. 
Here I remember that our mother undertook a 
pilgrimage of twenty leagues’ distance from 
home, as an act of kindness to Mrs. Faske, who 
went to America, I believe, and lived some- 
where in Illinois. The object of the pilgrimage 
to Telgte was the cure of the son of Mrs. 
Faske, who was obliged to walk on crutches, 
and, being a lad of my own age, and a school- 
mate, I have a vivid recollection of the fact. 
The boy went to Telgte, in the company of his 
own and our mother, and returned without the 



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"AS THE BISHOP SAW IT." 135 

crutches, having been so perfectly cured that he 
could walk with ease, and grew up a handsome 
boy. This circumstance made me resolve to 
pay a visit to Telgte, it being only a distance of 
seven miles from Munster. The turnpike road 
is as level and smooth as it possibly can be, and 
furnishes a pleasant carriage drive. But on the 
left side of this there is a pathway of about six 
feet in width from the city of Munster to Telgte, 
for the devout pilgrims. At the distance of 
every mile on this pathway there is a beautiful 
statue of the “Mater Dolorosa,” and thus the 
seven dolors of the Blessed Virgin are repre- 
sented, and suggest the appropriate subject of 
meditation on the way to the votive church, and 
chapel of the miraculous statue in Telgte. The 
statue, at the time of our visit, had been removed 
from the chapel and stood on a simple but neat 
pedestal, close to the communion railing in the 
sanctuary of the main altar. Seeing it at a 
distance, it presents nothing remarkable. It 
represents the “Mater Dolorosa” with her arms 
crossed over the breast, the head inclined to the 
left, and the face and eyes turned heavenward. 
As the church was filled with devout people, I 
felt delicate in advancing, fearing to disturb their 
devotions, but being encouraged by the priest, I 
advanced slowly until we stood right closely near 
the statue. What a change! It seemed so 



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136 “AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 

life-like — so devotional! The expression of the 
sorrowful eyes so real, that it fascinated our 
admiration, and held us captive in sympathy. 
Having performed our devotion as our dear 
mother did, in the same place, some forty years 
before, we returned to Munster. 

Our visit to Wesel was interspersed with feel- 
ings of indignation, of sympathy, of sorrow, and, 
also, of admiration. For, though we saw none, 
yet we well knew that the noble defenders of the 
faith — the many victims of the cruel and abom- 
inable “Falk Laws,” or, as it is here generally 
called, “The Cultus Kampt” — are incarcerated 
in the “Prison,” which looks as cheerless from 
without as it surely is within. The town had lost 
all its interest for us, and we went there rather as 
an act of devotion and sympathy for the impris- 
oned religious priests and lay Catholics who are 
compelled to drink the bitter cup prepared by the 
impious Bismarck and his allies, for their fidelity 
to God and His church. It is true that in this 
prison the martyr’s blood has not flowed, and the 
scourge has not rent the innocent and virgin 
flesh, but tbe weight of the chains, the want of 
proper food, the damp and chilly prison cells, 
have demanded their full share of victims, and 
death has ended the sufferings of many withm 
the walls of this miserable bastile. Adieu! 

C. H. B. 



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XVIII. 



Amsterdam, July 6, 1877. 

It happened that I had entirely forgotten the 
address of our venerable uncle, the only surviv- 
ing brother of our deceased mother — Herman 
Henry Dinkgreve, who has lived about half a 
century in this city. But remembering that Rev. 
B. G. Soffers had obtained information from the 
Redemptionist Fathers, and thus been enabled to 
hand him my photograph, which he kindly volun- 
teered to take, we were obliged to have recourse 
to them. The good lay brother spent a half da)', 
and only late in the evening was able to bring 
the news that our good uncle would meet us at 
the convent the following morning after mass. I 
had seen him once or twice, on a visit in Ger- 
many, before we left for America in 1839, but 
even my imagination failed to picture him, and 
hence we both were entire strangers at our meet- 
ing. But introducing himself to me after mass, 
he was all reverence, yet all joy at heart, and a 
flood of tears testified to his sincerity. He is 
small of stature, about my own height, well pro- 
portioned, rather thin, his hair quite gray, his 

137 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



countenance quite fresh, and upon the whole 
looks very well preserved for his advanced age. 
If my memory serves me he is either two years 
the senior or junior of my mother, and in either 
case over seventy years old. All his children and 
his son-in-law had accompanied him to the hotel. 
They spent the better part of the day with us in 
rehearsing the past, and learning as much about 
America as they could realize or take in. He 
assured me over and over again that he had 
always hoped and prayed for the happiness of this 
day, and was willing to say with Holy Simeon : 
“Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O, Lord, 
according to thy promise in peace.” Although 
the city of Amsterdam is built on low, wet 
ground, and its surroundings want all the pictur- 
esque beauty of the many cities which we have 
visited, yet it makes a good impression, and has 
many charms peculiar to itself. It is true 
that the greater part of its streets gre canals, 
and the rest very narrow, yet, with a few 
exceptions marvelously clean. In Venice we 
found the principal streets “all canal,” with 
not even a footpath on either side. But here 
the five principal streets are wide, and of these 
the “Heeren Stratt,” “Keizer Straat” and the 
“Prinzens Graacht” are the most elegant. They 
are two hundred and twenty feet wide, the canal 



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139 



in the center is sixty feet wide, and on either side 
of the canal the street is eighty feet wide, which, 
being well paved, makes them handsome thor- 
oughfares. There are two hundred and ninety 
bridges over these canal streets, which are arched 
to an elevation, so as not, in the least, to interfere 
with the free navigation on the canals. 

The houses are mostly constructed of brick, 
approached by flights of stone steps, being fre- 
quently six and seven stories high, and very 
pointed at the top, with the gable end to the 
street. The lower part of the house is what we 
would call a basement story, but entirely over- 
ground. Among the public buildings, the Palace 
is the most remarkable. It is an immense struc- 
ture, built of stone, in the form of a parallelogram 
262 feet long, 206 feet wide, 108 feet high, and 
rests on 13,659 piles driven 70 feet into the 
ground. Originally it was built for a town hall, 
and occupied by the Magistracy, the Courts and 
other city officers, but in 1808 it became the 
Royal Palace. The great hall in the Palace is 
hi feet long, 52 feet wide and 90 feet high, and 
lined throughout with white marble. 

I need not remind you of the historic fact that 
Amsterdam was originally a Catholic city and 
continued to be until 1578, when religious liberty 
was granted to all the sects. The principal 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



church edifice is the “New church,” founded in 
1408, 350 feet long, 210 feet wide, and has 95 
windows of stained glass. Of course, it was 
intended to -be a Catholic cathedral, but as soon 
as the Calvinists gained strength, and especially 
the support of the government, by becoming the 
state church, they saw no reason of not, by force^ 
taking possession of the best church. At present 
there are sixteen Catholic churches in the city, 
all of them very good, substantial edifices, but 
none of great architectural beauty or imposing 
grandeur. 

The art gallery contains a complete collection 
of the masterpieces of Dutch artists, and a grand 
collection of prints, perhaps unsurpassed in any 
country. But as the collection of paintings is 
confined to the productions of the country, it can- 
not give a general favorable impression to the 
visitor who comes from Munich, Naples, Flor- 
ence and Rome. 

Utrecht is not a remarkably large city, but it 
has some points of interest. It is built on some- 
what of an elevation, and in the shape of a harp. 
It is traversed with two considerable canals, 
which are crossed by numerous stone bridges. 
The fortifications which formerly surrounded the 
city have been leveled, and now form a delight- 
ful promenade of three miles. Outside of this 



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141 



city is the “Maliebaan,” where eight rows of 
magnificent shade trees form a double carriage 
way, and a beautiful foot path on each side of the 
center road, the whole being as charming a 
promenade as the most fastidious could desire. 
It was formerly an archiepiscopal city, and the 
cathedral erected in 1382 is, to this day, the 
grandest structure in the city, and in its present 
dilapidated condition it displays its ancient archi- 
tectural beauty. The tower, in the Gothic style, 
stands entirely detached, and a considerable dis- 
tance from the church, forming a grand archway 
for the entrance into the churchyard, and is 388 
feet high. Protestant piety ( ?), of course, had 
to appropriate this ancient church, though the 
small space, fenced in by boards — not even 
honored with a coat of paint — which is used on 
Sundays for their service, shows that they never 
had any use for it, and cannot, to-day, offer any 
apology for driving the Catholics out, who 
devoutly filled it. 

In this city the banished Jansenists of France 
swelled the number of this heresy to such a 
degree that they established the church of 
Utrecht, and elected their own archbishop in 
1723, who Was consecrated by the excommuni- 
cated Bishop Varlet, a fugitive from France. 
The consecrated Pseudo, Archbishop Steenhaven, 



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announced his promotion to the Pope, and asked 
for the Papal confirmation of the same, which 
every Archbishop succeeding him has done, for 
they profess the faith of the Primacy of St. 
Peter and his successors. This miserable heresy 
established two suffragon Bishoprics, one in 
Haarlem, the other in Deventer, having, in all, 
about twenty-five parishes, thirty priests, and 
numbering about four thousand adherents. At 
present it has hardly an existence, and would, 
long since, have died out, had it not received the 
support of the Calvinistic government. They 
own three churches in this city, and, in all, there 
are eleven Protestant churches in Utrecht, but the 
entire church-going Protestant population could 
be crowded into the old cathedral. Here, too, 
the five Catholic churches are not extraordinary 
in size, nor in style of architecture, but the spirit 
of the faith, the fervor and piety of the Catholics 
in this city, is manifested by the numerous attend- 
ance at mass on week days, and the thronged 
churches on Sundays. The quarterly market- 
days are great events. Several days before the 
opening of the market there is a great stir and 
activity on the spacious grounds of the market, 
in the erection of the many booths for the great 
variety of goods offered for sale, as well as for 
the many traveling shows, which move from the 



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one great market to the other, and seem not the 
least ingredient to make the whole a success. In 
these the minstrels, the clowns, the rope-walkers 
and dancers, the flying Dutchman, the menagerie, 
etc., take an important part, especially the open- 
ing ceremony, which is as amusing as it is 
ludicrous. To the stranger the affair looks 
foolish enough, but, upon mature reflection, very 
little, if any, fault can be found, for it is a kind of 
national frolic, in which the young folks delight, 
and the older find a share of amusement, and 
look on with pleasure. It is a “Gay show,” but 
strictly moral from beginning to end. What I 
here assert of the jolly opening ceremony, I 
cannot presume to affirm of the week’s market, 
which is carried on in dead earnest, and indulges, 
no doubt, in as much dishonesty in this city as 
the world over. 

Our visit to Rotterdam proved to be a delight- 
ful surprise. The city, in population, is second 
in the kingdom of the Netherlands, but in its 
commercial aspect it seems to have no rival. It 
is the first city in which, up to date, we observed 
an American activity, earnestness and push in 
every branch of business. The main streets are 
crowded with people, not, indeed, whiling away 
their time, and enjoying the brilliant displays in 
the store windows, but serious in their demeanor, 



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and quick in their movements. They look busi- 
ness. The dense procession of vehicles of every 
description, loaded down with merchandise, 
pressing up and down the street, the yells of the 
drivers urging the beasts, and the right of way 
in the throng, add not a little to the busy scene. 
The canals, in the very heart of the city, are of 
sufficient depth to permit the largest sea-faring 
vessels coming right up to the large ware- 
houses. The life, stir and general bustle at these 
wharves for unloading the ships is only mellowed 
by the songs of the sailors, which are as jolly as 
they are agreeable. The navy-yard, or the 
ship-building establishment of the government, 
is an extensive affair, and equipped with all the 
modern improvements in that line of business. 
Learning that we came from America, the 
officers received us kindly, showed us marked 
attention, and afforded us every facility to inspect 
in detail every department of the works. 

The finest church is that of St. Lawrence, built 
in the 15th century (from 1414 to 1472), which, 
of course, the Calvinists have possession of, 
though originally a Catholic church. It is a 
Gothic structure, pretty large and handsome, with 
an unfinished tower. There are several Catholic 
churches in this city, but here, as elsewhere, the 
limited means of the Catholics, when robbed of 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT P 145 

everything by the violence of the reformers, did 
not permit them to build grand churches. 

Rotterdam is the birthplace of the famous 
Desiderius Erasmus (his father’s name being 
Gerhard Helic) in 1467. As he was a man of 
great learning, honored by Bishops, Cardinals 
and the Pope, and courted by the potentates of 
Europe, being in high favor with the most distin- 
guished men in England, the reformers made the 
greatest efforts to gain him for their unholy cause/ 
It is evident from his letter to Luther, whom he 
chastised for his ill-temper and vulgarity, and 
counseled to meekness and Christian nobility, that 
he was not without sympathy for the reformers. 
But it is not less evident that, after the condemna- 
tion of Luther and the associate reformers, Eras- 
mus emphatically denounced them and repeatedly 
declared his adhesion to the Catholic church. In 
a letter written from Basel, May 19, 1535, he 
declared, “ That he would tolerate no one in his 
house who is affected by the new doctrine.” Of 
his death (1536) it is recorded that his last 
words were: “O, Jesus; have pity on me! O, 
Lord; deliver me! Mercy, O, Lord! Mercy!” 
But no mention is made that a priest had been 
called, or that he had received the last sacra- 
ments of the church. Two weeks before his 
death he stated in a letter to his friend, John 



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146 “AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT.'' 

Goclen: “In Basel, it is true, I live among my 
most sincere friends; but, on account of the dif- 
ference of faith, I prefer to end my days in 
another place.” June 28, 1536. This seems to 
justify the conclusion that he did not only perse- 
vere in the Catholic faith, but also desired to die 
fortified by the lqst sacraments. 

The Hague is the capital of the Netherlands. 
In it the king, the foreign ambassadors and the 
chief officers of the kingdom reside, and the 
supreme court is held. It impresses a person at 
once as a royal city, in the military displays and 
general attire of the officers of the government. 
It is rather pleasantly situated, traversed by 
canals, and kept very clean. For width and 
straightness of streets, and general elegance of 
the public buildings, it will bear comparison with 
the most of the continental cities. The royal 
palace is the most important structure in the city, 
but we were better pleased with, and more inter- 
ested in, the court of Holland, which is a large 
irregular building in various styles, on the Vyver- 
berg, founded in 1249, containing the hall of the 
assembly of the States General, which is richly 
ornamented with paintings of no ordinary merit. 

The public parks are frequent in the city, not 
more than four or five squares apart. The larg- 
est and most beautiful is the Queen’s park, in 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV ITT 147 

which the royal military band discourses charm- 
ing music every other evening in summer. A 
numerous herd of spotted deer sport for the 
amusement of the people, frequenting the park 
during the day, and crowding it in the evening. 
The order kept by the police is perfect, and 
no vulgarity is ever heard. The cars run 
through the principal streets of the city to 
the sea-shore, a distance of about fwo miles. 
This is a delightful excursion, the sea air 
refreshing, and the place itself charming; the 
bathing establishments arranged with admi- 
rable nicety, and the restaurant and hotel accom- 
modations are perfect. Hague is one of the prin- 
cipal summer resorts for Englishmen, and in 
consequence nearly every hotel keeper speaks the 
English language pretty fluently. There are 
twelve churches in this city, five of them Catho- 
lic; of these, St. James, built in the 16th century, 
is the largest and most handsome. Of course, it 
was appropriated by the Calvinists. * * * 

c. H. 13 . 



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XIX. 



Hertogenbosch , July 16 , i8yy. 

This city, though of considerable antiquity and 
historic fame, yet does not present much for the 
admiration of the traveler. In America it is bet- 
ter known by the French name “Bois le Due.” 
By its name it points to the origin in 1184, when 
Godfred III founded the town on the hunting-seat 
of the Duke of Brabant. Being a fortified city, 
it withstood the sieges of 1601-1603, but in 1629 
it was taken by Prince Frederic Henry; again 
by the French in 1794, and finally by the Prus- 
sians in 1814. We called on His Grace Arch- 
bishop Swysen, who proved a happy exception in 
not only receiving us with formal politeness, but 
cordial kindness, manifested in many ways. He 
is eighty-two (82) years of age, quite gray — yes, 
his hair is white — very emaciated and feeble, of 
tall, handsome stature, and his mind remarkably 
bright and vigorous. He accompanied us to the 
cathedral church to point out the work of the last 
ten years in restoration. The great St. John’s 
church was begun in 1280 and finished in 1312, 
and is one of the finest Gothic structures in Hol- 

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and. The fury of the reformation, in the destruc- 
tion of everything Catholic, vented itself on the 
grand cathedral in the occupation of the city in 
1629. The maddened mob, led by the religious 
fanatics, either entirely annihilated the elegant 
stone statuary and superb paintings of the old 
masters, or disfigured them to a degree, in and 
around the church, that they became horrid or 
ludicrous caricatures. The sight of them filled 
us with indignation, more particularly in the face 
of the infamous assertion, so shamefully repeated 
in our day, that we are indebted to the reforma- 
tion for the flourishing condition of science and 
art. On the walls in this cathedral the mutilated 
paintings, the maimed statues and the destroyed 
figures in the windows of stained glass bear a 
monumental testimony of the barbarity of the 
fanatic reformers, and their base falsehoods in the 
perversion of historical facts. The ten years’ 
work, and the twenty-five thousand guilders 
expended have only restored one of the side 
entrances to its original beauty, and it is likely 
that one hundred thousand guilders will not suf- 
fice to replace the whole statuary and windows. 
But money cannot replace the paintings of the 
great masters. There are six more Catholic 
churches in this city, all pretty handsome and 
spacious structures, yet not of extraordinary 



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merit. We were the guests of the venerable pas- 
tor of Orthe, a village about three miles from the 
city of Bois le Due, who is an older brother of m3' 
Chancellor, Very Rev. H. J. H. Schutjes. I have 
mentioned in my former letters that Rev. Schut- 
jes, Sr., and Rev. Van Erp, Sr., in company with 
their two reverend brothers from America, met 
us in Paris, went with us to Lourdes, Rome, 
Naples, Loretto, Milan, Turin and Geneva, and 
then left us, being in a hurry to go down the 
Rhine and home. We had a delightful reunion 
in Orthe, being joined by the Vicar General, the 
President of the Diocesian Seminary, and several 
of the neighboring reverend pastors. The feeble 
state of the health of the Most Rev. Archbishop 
increased m3’ gratitude for the kind call on the 
day after my first visit, and greatly surprised. 
Rev. Schutjes, Sr., who seemed more astonished, 
than we were. But the delight of the whole 
company grew enthusiastic when they saw 
the carriage drive up to the pastoral resi- 
dence, and the venerable Archbishop alight 
to join the dinner party. They all declared it an 
event which had never before happened during 
the many years of his episcopal administration. 
Remaining on Sunday in Orthe, I said mass in 
the 'church dedicated to St. Roche, at seven 
o’clock in the morning, and was not a little as- 



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tonished to find the edifice crowded with devout 
people. But my surprise was increased when, 
assisting at the high mass, not only the church, 
but also the church-yard, was packed with the 
faithful. This was explained that the sight of a 
Bishop, in this little country church, was among 
the extraordinary occurrences, because the extent 
of the diocese, the multiplicity' of the episcopal 
duties, and now the debility of the octogenarian 
prelate did not permit His Grace to visit the 
smaller parishes. In the administration of the 
Sacrament of the confirmation, four, five, and 
more of the smaller country parishes bring the 
candidates to one of the larger churches in which 
they are all confirmed. 

The whole of the country, for miles in every 
direction, from Bois le Due, is like one of our 
western prairies, — an immense meadow, traversed 
by innumerable canals, and protected by 
larger and smaller dykes. The land is consider- 
ably below the level of the sea, and hence the 
facility, in case of war or the like, of inundating 
the whole country, at will, by breaking one of 
the great dykes. They claim here that the 
climate is healthy, though it does not so impress 
the traveler; for similar low and wet lands in 
America would insure ague enough to shake the 
strongest frame to pieces. The sallow com- 



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plexion, the blistered lips, the sunken eyes, the 
shivering limbs, and the general woe-begone 
looks of the people who have condemned them- 
selves to the ague swamps in our country, are 
never seen in Holland. On the contrary, the 
people look hale, strong and full of life and vigor ; 
and, judging from the houses in the country, and 
all their surroundings, the week-day and Sunday 
attire of the peasantry, the fine herds of cattle in 
the meadows, the frequency of carriages and 
blooded horses, the elegantly cultivated gardens, 
etc., the conviction hardly admits of a doubt that 
the people in this country enjoy a fair share of 
prosperity. All this is strongly confirmed by the 
ladies coming from the country into the cities on 
Sunday and market-days, in their profuse display 
of ornaments of massive gold, especially the 
curious, heavy gold band over the forehead. 
The rosette (often resembling a bee-hive) with 
the elaborate pendants, hang from the ears; the 
jeweled crown of gold, instead of the comb, on 
the back of the head, for the fastening of the 
hair. The whole looks like an extravagant 
luxury, yet very modest and rather pleasing. 
But it would be a great mistake, inferring from 
the last, that the country people in general, and 
the ladies in particular, indulge in the extremes 
of tashion, whereas absolutely the contrary is the 



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truth. They, as much as the northern Germans, 
appeared to be obstinate in maintaining the 
customs and usages of their great-great-grand- 
fathers and mothers. * * * c. h. b. 



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XX. 



Artwerp, July 18, i8yy. 

We are in Belgium, engaged in the sights of 
the city of Antwerp. The general appearance 
of this city at a distance, before entering it, is 
exceedingly picturesque, formed by the many 
towers of the churches, the grand old convents, 
the magnificent public buildings, and the pro- 
fusion of beautiful trees. 

The streets being a perfect cobweb, a stranger 
has no business to venture out alone if he does 
not desire to make sure of losing his way. The 
city proper is only two miles long and three- 
quarters of a mile wide, it is built on a bend of 
the River Scheldt. It is of very ancient date, for 
it is said that in the 15th and 16th centuries it 
had 200,000 inhabitants, and 2000 vessels 
annually entered its ports. By the terms of the 
peace of Westphalia, the navigation of the 
Scheldt was closed, and caused the commercial 
ruin of the city, from which it has not recovered. 
The cathedral is one of the largest and most 
beautiful specimens of Gothic architecture in 
Belgium. It was commenced in the 13th cen- 

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tury, and is said to have been over eighty years 
in the course of construction. The exterior is 
truly remarkable for the exquisite delicacy and 
elaborate beauty of workmanship, but the ceiling 
in the interior being massive arches, supported 
by a double row of columns of great dimensions, 
seemed to crowd the church a little, and did 
not impress us as remarkably graceful. One 
tower remains unfinished, but the other is 366 
feet high, and second to none we have seen in 
beauty and grandeur, from the foundation to the 
summit. It possesses several of the paintings of 
the two great masters, Rubens and Van Dyke. 
The “Taking down of our Lord from the cross,” 
with the copies of which every Catholic is 
familiar, charms the beholder at the first glance, 
for he seems, at once, convinced that every 
image, every feature, every shade on that canvas, 
is faultless, and the scene as devotional as it is 
grand. The other is “The raising of the cross on 
Calvary,” a much bolder conception and more diffi- 
cult task, even in the hands of a great master. 
But the fact that it fills the beholder, almost 
simultaneously, with great admiration and pro- 
found sympathy, proves the success of the artist. 
As you devoutly scrutinize each figure on the 
canvas, the discovery is made that the artist has 
painted his own likeness in the robes of a Roman 



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soldier, whose countenance vividly expresses the 
horror filling his soul, in beholding the Deicide 
tragedy, as he had pictured it in his mind for 
the reproduction on canvas. They are both 
deservedly called masterpieces of Reubens. St. 
James cannot be compared with the cathedral, 
but withal is a large structure. The interioi I 
consider is handsomer than the cathedral itself. 
In it the remains of the famous Rubens rest. 
He died in 1540, and his tomb behind the high 
altar, is covered with a marble slab, with an 
appropriate inscription. 

St. Andrews church is famed for its truly 
magnificent pulpit, representing the mission of 
the Holy Ghost in statuary of elegant work- 
manship. The idea is the tree of life ramifying 
into the sacraments of the redemption, — culmi- 
minating into the external triumph. These and 
the many other churches in the city are enriched 
with paintings by Reubens, Van Dyke, Teniers, 
and other masters. We spent a delightful morn- 
ing in the art gallery of the most renowned 
Belgian and Dutch artists. The collection is not 
very extensive, but choice; and for that reason 
affords greater pleasure during a short visit. It 
seemed to me that I never was more inclined to 
stipulate for a painting; than a piece — just far 
enough advanced to feel confident that the copy 



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would be unquestionably a success. I returned 
to it a second and third time, not so much, 
indeed, for the charm of the picture, but for 
the enjoyment experienced in seeing the artist at 
his work. He seemed a man about thirty years 
of age, wearing a short but full beard, being 
of rather slight frame, being of very intelligent 
expression of countenance. Both his arms were 
wanting — not even a stump at the shoulders 
indicated that he ever had been blessed with 
them. You will readily understand why I felt 
such a charm in seeing him paint. What I 
should have greatly doubted, that I saw with my 
own eyes: This man painted with his feet and 

used them as dexterously, in holding the palette 
and brushes, together with the guiding rod 
with the left foot, and laying on the most deli- 
cate colorings of paint with the brush in the 
grip of the right foot, as any pair of hands 
ever employed at a similar work. The toes on 
both the feet seemed to be considerably longer 
than on the generality of feet, but in every other 
respect I did not observe any particular differ- 
ence in this man’s feet and limbs. But he used 
his toes as skillfully as the musician does his fin- 
gers, and his limbs were as flexible as the best 
practiced pair of arms. In walking, howevei, it 
seemed to me that he did not take as bold and 



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firm a step as other people do; but he appeared 
rather to trip or skip along like a gay boy of 
twelve summers. The copy at which the two 
feet were engaged, I would surely have bought 
had the subject of the painting permitted it. 

In my letter about Amsterdam, I refrained 
mentioning our visit to the zoological gardens, 
which we greatly admired, for we were assured 
that the one in this city by far surpassed it. We 
have enjoyed one entire afternoon in the zoo- 
logical gardens of Antwerp, have leisurely investi- 
gate every department, and were much inter- 
ested in the variety of information volunteered 
by the gentlemanly manager^ and officers. It is 
true that the garden is more artistic in its 
general management, and the appearance of the 
whole more pleasing; but in my opinion it is a 
great mistake to declare it superior to the one in 
Amsterdam. In the last named the animal king- 
dom, and the specimens of the great families 
there presented, are more complete, more noble, 
and more perfect than those in Antwerp. There 
is from thirty to forty feet of water in the river 
at ebb-tide, and hence the largest ocean steamers 
can come up to the city; and thousands of emi- 
grants to the United States have taken sail at 
this port. 

From here we purpose to go to Brussels, and 



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159 



then to Tournay, hoping to obtain the necessary 
letters from Monsignor Dumont the Right Rever- 
end Bishop of Tournay to make sure of seeing 
Louise Lateau. We are obliged to economize 
time considerably in order to be able to realize 
our intentions. c. H. B. 



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XXL 



Ghent , July 22 , 1877. 

The city of Antwerp made a very favorable 
impression on us, and we had every reason for 
regretting we could not prolong our stay. But 
the city of Brussels is the grand center of attrac- 
tion in this country — it is truly the Paris of Bel- 
gium. In many respects it really resembles the 
great city of France — the general air put on by 
the people, the “extremes” of politeness, even on 
occasions laughable enough, the tone of superi- 
ority assumed by the gentry; yes, by the dirty- 
faced, uncombed, moustached, would-be nobility, 
and many other such demonstrations of superior 
absurdities. The boulevards and royal parks, the 
intermixture of ancient and modern styles of 
architecture; the profuse display of everything 
calculated to please the multitude in the show- 
cases and store windows; whatever may be 
acceptable to the devout, or delight the lascivi- 
ous is equally frequent in the public exhibit. 
The origin of the city is of the early Christian 
age, and was called “Isle de St. Gerii,” the vil- 
lage being built on an island of the Seine, 

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which flows through the center of the present 
city of Brussels. 

The city proper has only a circumference of 
three miles, which is the grand boulevard lined 
with a double row of trees, and as clean and ele- 
gant a promenade on either side of the carriage 
way as the most fastidious can desire. With the 
exception of the few new ones, the streets are 
very irregular and crooked, the houses handsome 
buildings, the great majority of those along the 
boulevard are grand structures. 

The church of St. Gudule, called the cathedral, 
is an imposing and grand Gothic structure, erected 
from 1226 to 1663, or in the course of 467 years, 
and is built on a considerable elevation. It is 
cruciform, built of brick, has two square towers, 
each two hundred and twenty-six feet high, but 
they seem to be still incomplete. The interior of 
this church has the stamp of simple grandeur. 
To the inside of the piers of the nave are attached 
on brackets fourteen colossal statues, represent- 
ing Jesus, Mary, and the twelve apostles, which 
are the work of Du Quesnoy. The pulpit is a 
remarkable piece of wooden structure by Ver- 
bruggen. But the stained glass in the windows 
is the most brilliant we have seen. Though the 
city is not noted for its religious sentiments, and 
everything seen in the public exhibition leads to 



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the contrary conviction, yet we were told by 
well-informed persons that the Catholics of Brus- 
sels are a truly devout and pious people. 

We arrived at Tournay to receive a cordial 
welcome from Right Reverend Bishop Dumont. 
His Lordship was at one time a missionary priest 
in the Diocese of Detroit, being on the ioth day 
of November, 1857, appointed pastor of the mis- 
sion of Redford, Wayne county, and Farmington 
and Southfield in Oakland county, and remaining 
in said charge to the 18th of November, 1861, — 
four years — at which time he was nominated to 
the Vice Rectorship of the American college, at 
Louvain, Belgium. The plain brick church at 
Redford, dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, is, it 
is said, built chiefly of the private funds 
of this devout missionary, and is, to-day, a 
worthy monument of Bishop Dumont’s zeal for 
the honor of God in the mission of Redford. 
The lapse of sixteen years had not obliterated his 
interest in his humble mission in our diocese, for 
he inquired all about several persons by name, and 
into the minutest particulars about the present 
prosperity of that mission. He pressed us so 
urgently that we found ourselves obliged to 
accept the invitation for dinner, and after that he 
gave us a very warm letter of introduction to the 
Rev. M. Cure Niels, of Bois d’Haine. The 



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cathedral is a fine church edifice, but exteriorly 
of no particular beauty, the front or older portion 
being built in the pure Roman style, whereas the 
sanctuary, or rear half of the church, is in a kind 
of Gothic style, from which transition in the style 
of architecture the exterior appearance of the 
church suffers somewhat, and offends the eye. 
The interior, however, makes ample amends, for 
it is so handsome and charmingly beautiful that 
it compares favorably with the best in the coun- 
try. In the antiquity and richness of the vest- 
ments and sacred vessels, it surpasses most of 
them. The several other churches in this city, 
like the majority of them in this country, are 
good and substantial structures, serving the great 
purpose for which they were erected, but offer 
nothing for special admiration. 

The arrangements having been completed, we 
started on the first train on Friday morning, July 
20, 1877, for the village of Bois d’Haine. The 
railroad station very much resembles the many of 
the kind in the United States, the station house 
being a cheap frame structure, the so-called vil- 
lage consisting of a pretty large building, serving 
as a general store and hotel, and a few scattered 
houses along the highway. It has not even a 
blacksmith shop. Here, too, the hotel department 
(the second floor of the house) was in charge of 



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the landlady, who bravely took hold of our heavy 
satchels and carried them up stairs as if they were 
trifles. The much-desired luxury of private 
rooms, and the privilege of disposing of the heavy 
coat of dust were not at our disposition. Having 
learned that the church of Bois d’Haine is about 
one and a half miles from the station, we were 
innocent enough to inquire for the hire of a car- 
riage to take us there, which seemed to greatly 
astonish the good landlady. She soon convinced 
us that such a convenience was out of the ques- 
tion, but added, with considerable hesitation, that 
the only available conveyance would be an ox- 
cart, drawn by a pair of cows. We were assured 
that the road to the cburch is in very good con- 
dition, the distance not great, and it will be but a 
pleasant walk, and we started. The young son 
of the landlady, being our guide, led the way, 
and was quite communicative in telling us all that 
he knew about the marvel which we had come 
to see. Our appearance on the road seemed to 
be sufficiently curious to the people living along 
the highway, for young and old rushed to see 
the sight. Our guide now pointed out to us 
the steeple of the church and the road to be 
taken for our destiny, and bows himself away. 
We take this way through the fields, but pres- 
ently discover it to be a pretty muddy path. 



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On an elevation to the right we observed a pleas* 
t ant and dry path and at once concluded to follow 
it. To our amazement we found out that it has 
led us about half a mile out of our way, but fol- 
lowing a road leading to the right, we again 
struck the abandoned path and are soon in the 
immediate proximity of the church. Approach- 
ing it from the rear, and having surveyed the 
premises, we concluded the handsome new brick 
building, to be the residence of the reverend pas- 
tor. It is surrounded by a brick wall. Whilst in 
search for the door bell, a little boy came along 
and we asked him: Where does the pastof live? 
That’s the Sisters’ house, said he, and the M. 
Cure lives on the other side of the church. The 
mistake corrected, we followed our new guide to 
the front of the church, and he pointed to a large 
old-fashioned gateway, saying: “Go in there and 
ring the bell; that’s where M. Cure lives.” We 
obeyed, rang the bell, advanced to the house, 
which is about a hundred feet from the road, 
were met by the smiling servant, invited in, and 
assured that the reverend pastor would soon be 
on hand. The reverend gentleman proved to be, 
at first sight, what he had been represented to 
us: i. e., anything but agreeable, and a very 
rough specimen of a man. 

Right Reverend Bishop Dumont had instructed 



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us not to be surprised if we found him disagree- 
able, saying, on account of the ever-increasing 
importunities, “I beg to assure you that M. Neils 
is the right man in the right place to maintain 
order.” In order to smooth our path as much 
as possible, we at once handed him the letter of 
introduction, which he took in an impatient man- 
ner, opened it in the act of walking to his secre- 
tary in the extreme right angle of his study, rest- 
ing his back on the desk until the reading was 
finished. A sudden rage of temper seized him; 
he walked the floor, shook his head, gesticulated 
vehemently and almost shouted: “It is impos- 
sible.” His excitement waxed stronger; his impa- 
tience and indignation boiled up to such a degree 
that our chance of being turned out seemed immi- 
nent. In the midst of this scene I quietly took off 
my coat, put on my cassock, cincture and biretta, 
which alone saved me from his rage, which was 
now vented on Revs. S. and A. They asked him, 
by way of diversion, whether there was a hotel in 
the village, to which he replied, with a burst of 
indignation: “Go away; I cannot feed and enter- 
tain the crowds that come here.” Having 
opened the door, politeness required them to 
depart. These intruders having been disposed 
of, M. Neils graciously turned to me, saying: 
“Monsigneur, you can remain, and I’ll be happy 



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in sharing my dinner with you.” As if he 
regretted this slight evidence of civility, he 
presently turned to his secretary and began to 
write. The great majority of the clergy in 
Italy, France and Belgium indulge in the abun- 
dant use of snuff, but smoking is considered inde- 
corous by them. You may, therefore, imagine 
the utter amazement of M. Cure when he saw me 
light a cigar, and desecrate his study by its per- 
fume. At first, turning toward me, his eyes 
flashed with displeasure, but, looking at my calm 
composure, and the delight it afforded me in send- 
ing the smoke through the study, a happy change 
came over him, and he enjoyed a hearty laugh. 
At this moment I felt the lion was tamed, and it 
proved true. He seemed a new man, and contin- 
ued polite, agreeable and sociable, conversing 
freely on various subjects. The fish dinner was 
good, but very plain. I mention this that you may 
feel absolutely convinced that it was not the effect 
of the dinner, if I was delightfully disappointed in 
seeing M. Cure Neils grow pleasantly jovial. 
But it was astonishing to see the housekeeper in 
such a hurry, removing dish after dish as soon as 
we had been helped. For the dinner ceremony 
in this country is so wickedly slow, that it 
required all the patience I could summon to enjoy 
it. The secret of this was revealed, when Revs. 



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S. and A. informed me, that, having been turned 
out by M. Cure, they went to the convent on the 
other side of the church and announced them- 
selves ready for dinner. The good sisters having 
nothing provided, had recourse to the house- 
keeper of M. Cure, who handed the dishes from 
our table to the Sisters, and they placed them 
before their reverend guests. It is possible that 
the Rev. M. Cure Neils discovered the trick 
played on him, and that it helped in making him 
so jovial. The dinner over, I enjoyed another 
smoke, when, all of a sudden, I observed M. 
Cure move toward the side door, through which 
he had entered on his first appearance after our 
arrival. Fortunately, I suspected this flank 
movement, and hailed him with the question: 
“Monsieur Cure, where are you going?” He 
bowed and smiled: “I intended to go to the 
house of Louise Lateau.” “Ah! Very well, M. 
Cure, PH go along,” was my answer. Rising at 
the same moment, I followed him “Nolens 
volens.” Motioning to Mr. M. to follow me, we 
moved on at a slow pace, and, having passed the 
church, I noticed a reverend-looking gentleman, 
who had the appearance as if he might be 
English. He was delighted by hearing me 
accost him in his native tongue, and explained, in 
haste, that he had spent a week there, in hopes 



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of being admitted to see Louise Lateau, but 
failed. Sympathizing with him, I invited him to 
follow us, which he did. At this juncture we 
met Revs. S. and A., who had been on a keen 
look-out for us, and now joined our company. 
The distance from the residence of the par- 
ish priest to the house of Louise Lateau is more 
than a quarter of a mile, and upon our arrival we 
found quite a little assembly of people before the 
house, and among them five Religions. This was 
the signal for another outburst of the vehement 
displeasure of M. Cure Neils, because they, too, 
had not gone through the prescribed regulations 
and been admitted by him. It was nearly 1 140 
o’clock p. m. The house of the Lateau family is 
a very plain one story brick building about fifteen 
to eighteen feet long, and about the same width; 
the kitchen being a small, low addition to the left 
end of the house. The door of entrance is nearly 
in the center of the side of the house, towards the 
road, having three small panes of glass in the 
transom above the door, and there are two small 
windows, one at the right and left of the door, 
each of them fortified with four heavy iron bars, 
making the whole look very much like a little 
jail. Above the little transom window of the 
door there is a square window of about two feet, 
to light the garret rooms under the steep roof. 



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M. Cure Neils did not knock at the door upon 
our arrival, but took hold of one of the iron bars 
before the window on the right side, and silently 
walked to the door which promptly opened for 
his admittance. The eldest sister, Rosine, is far 
famed as an inflexible character in the capacity of 
door keeper, but my attire so filled her with awe 
that she offered no resistance to my entry. 
Turning round I told my companions to hold on 
to the knob of the door until I’d come back. 
The interior of the house is divided into three 
compartments: i. e., the front room, marked A, 



1 — 1 BED 

W , 

B ^ 

DOOR 


C 

DOOR 




nn 


Us 



FRONT DOOR 



being narrow, but the length of the house, except- 
ing the stairway for the garret; in this four 
women were seated around a table busy at their 
needlework, who honored us only with a passing 
glance of curiosity. The room marked (C) is a 
small bed- room, but the room marked (B) is the 
one occupied by Louise Lateau, which we now 
entered. 



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Louise Lateau, the youngest of three daugh- 
ters, was bom on the 30th of January, 1850, and 
three months later (April 17, 1850,) her father 
died of small-pox. The eldest, Rosine, was 
three years of age; the second, Adeline, a little 
more than two years old; and the good mother, 
Madame Lateau, was left with the three helpless 
children, in very poor circumstances, and obliged 
to struggle hard for their support, which she did 
in a noble manner. But this state of want 
allowed the little girl, Louise, only three months 
of regular schooling, in which she learned to 
read and write some. She improved this 
imperfect education so well that she now writes 
a good hand. In the year 1866 the cholera 
broke out in Bois d’Haine, attacking, first, 
three persons in one and the same family. The 
father, mother and daughter lying at the point of 
death at the same time, so frightened the four 
grown sons that they fled. The reverend pastor, 
finding the three dying persons abandoned by 
their dearest relations and all the neighbors, 
called on Louise Lateau, now about 16 years of 
age, and begged her to nurse the sick. God 
seemed to inspire the young girl with the 
necessary confidence, for she joyfully entered on 
the charge, and remained with them until they 
had closed their eyes to time. This dreadful dis- 



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ease had spread an uncontrollable panic in the 
community, and it was impossible to cheer them 
for the performance of the chief duty of 
Christian charity — the burying of the dead. 
This obliged Louise to prepare the victims of 
her charge for the grave, and she end the M. 
Cure alone prepared them for burial. Louise 
felt that a merciful Providence had called her 
for the performance of the work of heroic 
charity, which increased with an appalling 
rapidity in the parish. Though not of a very 
robust constitution, having been the victim of 
severe attacks of sickness, yet she, so far, sur- 
passed herself in endurance, spending day and 
night in administering to the sick, being almost 
ubiquitous in nursing, in cheering, in consoling in 
the several stages of the torturing malady. She 
manifested, particularly, almost preternatural 
courage and strength in being ever ready to dig 
the graves, to carry the dead, and assist the M. 
Cure Neils, whom a stern necessity compelled to 
be the pastor, undertaker and grave-digger for 
his own unfortunate parishioners. In this noble 
and heroic work of charity, Louise persevered, not 
a week, not a month, but as long as the frightful 
epidemic lasted, — until the last patient had been 
cared for, — until the mortal frame of the last 
victim had been gently sunk down into the grave 



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and covered by the work of her hands. Of the 
survivors in the parish, there was not a single 
one who did not owe her the debt of gratitude, 
and they vied with one another in manifesting it 
to their benefactress. All were loud in her 
praise, and all hearts and tongues blessed her. 
Thanking God for having favored her with 
the opportunity of doing good, for giving her the 
strength to persevere in it to the end, and for 
preserving her from the contagion of this deadly 
disease, Louise quietly joined her sisters in aiding 
their mother in the support of the family. We 
see her again the simple, innocent and saintly 
girl, at the long table, in the front room, a dili- 
gent seamstress, bearing the invisible crown of 
the heroine of charity. c. H. B. 



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XXII. 



Ghent , July 24 , i8jj. 

You, I am sure, can more readily realize the 
heroism of Louise Lateau, than the great major- 
ity of people, for there are not many who, like 
you, have been eye-witnesses of the frightful 
scenes so frequent in the years of cholera in the 
United States. You saw the one hundred and 
twelve prisoners in the Ohio penitentiary who 
died of cholera. You accompanied your rev- 
erend brother on his sick calls to the hundreds of 
cholera patients in the city of Columbus, Ohio, in 
the three counties — Franklin, Delaware and 
Marion, Ohio. Y ou saw the many sick of cholera 
on the railroads, in the farm-houses, in the cities — 
their alleys and lanes. You- walked for three 
summers (1849-50-51) in the shadow of death. 
The very recollection, the bare thought causes 
even now the blood to chill in my veins, for it 
brings to view the frightful writhings, the horrid 
convulsions, the maddening tortures, the black 
agonies of the hundreds in the grip of death. 

This letter was addressed to his brother, Mr. John Borgess. 

174 



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I take great pleasure in introducing again in 
this letter, the same heroine whose noble works 
of charity we have admired in union with the 
parishioners of Bois d’Haine. We left her in 
company of her sisters at the table in the front 
room hard at work with her needle, in the enjoy 
ment of perfect health. This blessing, however, 
was to be only of short duration, for in the begin- 
ning of the year 1867 Louise Lateau was afflicted 
with a disease of the throat, which gradually 
became so bad that she could only with great 
difficulty take the prescribed medicine. From 
day to day she became more feeble, and in the 
month of September her debility created great 
alarm. It was deemed advisable to administer 
the last sacrament to her. In this critical 
moment her mother and sisters joined, her in a 
novena to our Lady of Salette, at the end of 
which Louise was cured. But it was evident 
that Infinite Mercy designed to school her, in 
patient submission and holy resignation, by 
repeated visitations of afflictions. For in the 
month of March, 1868, she was attacked with a 
severe hemorrhage of the lungs, and this disease 
so exhausted her strength that she herself con- 
cluded she was at the door of death. On the 
15th of April, 1868, she summoned all the dear 
ones to her bed-side, and took formal leave of 



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them, and requested to receive the Viaticum. 
After receiving Holy Communion she experi- 
enced a desire for her recovery, and began to 
pray for it. Her prayer for recovery had scarcely 
been completed when every vestige of pain had 
left her. On the 17th of the same month she 
made her first attempt to rise, but was so weak 
that she could not stand on her feet. At this she 
smiled and remarked : “ That will be all right, for 
on the 2 1 st of April I will walk to the church 
and receive Holy Communion during mass.” 
Being reduced to a skeleton, and not able to 
stand on her feet, this declaration seemed absurd. 
But the people of Bois d’Haine, considering her 
a saint, freely admitted that God, in his good- 
ness, might have promised her the blessing. 
Early in the morning of the 21st the parish 
church of Bois d’Haine was crowded with 
devout people, who waited, in breathless sus- 
pense, for the arrival of Louise Lateau. Their 
faith was abundantly rewarded by seeing her 
walk into the church unsupported by any one; 
staying during mass, receiving Holy Com- 
munion, and returning in perfect health with her 
mother and sisters. She continued perfectly 
well and happy during the following two days, 
but this blessing and happiness was soon to be 
exchanged for dreadful forebodings of returning 



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malady. All of a sudden, on the 24th of April, 
1868, she experienced those dreadful pains which 
had tortured her in the previous years, and she 
was much alarmed, discovering that the blood 
flowed freely from her left side. Trusting that 
it had been but a slight return of the former 
disease, and the bleeding having entirely ceased 
on the following day (Saturday), as well as 
being free from pain, Louise kept silent about 
the previous day. But as the suffering returned 
on the first of May (the following Friday), the 
side bled more profusely, and blood began to 
ooze out from the upper part of her feet. She 
grew more alarmed, yet held her tongue, wisely 
concluding to consult her confessor about it. 
Rev. Father Neils is a man of sound judgment, 
and, from what I have stated in my letters about 
him, you have already drawn your conclusion 
that he is not much given to the imaginary, nor 
inclined to enthusiasm, much less of a visionary 
character. Hence you are not surprised that, 
having listened to the statement of Louise, he 
told her: “That is nothing; go home and keep 
quiet about it.” She obeyed. On the 8th of 
May, at 9 a . m ., blood flowed freely from the 
left side, both feet and both hands. M. Cure 
Neils began to feel uneasy about the unaccount 
able phenomenon, and directed his penitent, for 



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medical aid, to Dr. Gonne. The doctor, 
believing it a natural ailment, exercised his skill 
for several weeks, in trying to stop the bleeding. 
The medicine was given, the applications made, 
— in short, everything tried proved in vain. The 
bleeding of the side, of the feet, and of the hands 
continued every succeeding Friday. At this 
juncture M. Cure Neils considered it his duty to 
inform his ecclesiastical superiors of the facts, 
and sent an unvarnished statement of the case to 
His Lordship, the Bishop of Tournay. Besides 
the theological investigation instituted on the 8th 
of September, 1868, the medical investigation 
continued for one and a half years, every medical 
scientist trying his hand at it; there being, fre- 
quently, fifteen doctors at work on Fridays. In 
1870 over one hundred doctors, representing 
every nationality, had tried and exhausted their 
strength in curing Louise Lateau, but failed 
signally. The bleeding of the wounds was the 
very same on each succeeding Friday. It con- 
tinues to the present day, as we witnessed on 
Friday, the 20th day of July, 1877. The lan- 
guage of St. Paul to the Galatians, (chapter 6, 
verse 17) seems to apply to her: “From hence- 
forth let no man be troublesome to me, for I bear 
the marks of our Lord Jesus Christ in my 
body.” Dr. Lefevre, Professor of the Catholic 



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University at Louvain, being a solid and practi- 
cal Catholic, and, in the medical profession, an 
acknowledged authority, published a full report 
of his observations during his prolonged visits at 
Bois d’Haine, and thus describes Louise Lateau: 
“She is of full and round figure; of a fresh, 
slightly-colored complexion, having blonde hair 
and blue, clear, bright eyes.” And, I beg to add, 
of medium female figure, a very ordinary mold 
of features, and by no means a handsome girl. 
Permit me here to state that having read some 
reports about her, and heard much more from 
those who had seen her, I did not feel justified to 
deny nor even to question such honorable testi- 
mony. But I had suspended my own judgment 
on the subject, firmly determined to see Louise 
Lateau, make my observations, and form my 
own opinion according to what I had seen and 
been convinced of. I came, therefore, to Bois 
d’Haine, not, indeed, a skeptic nor a believer, but 
as one willing to be convinced by ocular evi- 
dences. As I mentioned before, M. Cure and I 
entered the room marked (B) in the diagram, 
and I stood at the foot of the bed on which 
Louise Lateau was lying. The sight presented 
considerably astonished me, who, during the last 
twenty-eight years, had grown quite familiar 
with the appearance of the sick and dying. Her 



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countenance had a livid hue, her eyes were par- 
tially closed with the eye-balls turned upward* 
her mouth was open, her chest heaved convul- 
sively, her hands moved slightly to and fro, her 
head tossed from time to time, in short, all the 
signs of a death agony crowded into view, and 
under ordinary circumstances I should have 
urged M. Cure quickly to administer the last 
sacraments, and commence reciting the prayers 
for the dying. At this moment the M. Cure 
informed me that this is called the “Agony,” 
which begins at midnight of Thursday and con-, 
tinues to the same hour of Friday night, and that 
during the whole of that time she is unconscious 
of anything around her, except when she is 
called to consciousness. As a proof of the last 
statement, he invited me to call her to conscious- 
ness, which I declined on account of our loud and 
undisguised conversation in her presence. But 
he said in a low tone of voice: “ Louise,” where- 
upon she entirely opened her eyes, turned her 
head and looked at me. Blessing her, I pre- 
sented my ring; she kissed it and expressed her 
gratitude by a reverential smile. I had come to 
see and judge for myself and therefore kindly 
requested M. Cure to leave the room. He 
promptly obeyed, but, having stepped over the 
threshold, he stood there leaning his back against 



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the door-frame with his note book, and pencil in 
hand. I first seated myself on the only chair in 
the room, which I had placed at the right side, 
near the head of the bed. Louise’s two hands 
rested on several thicknesses of folded linen, 
spread over the bed-cover, and were covered 
with a folded linen cloth. This I removed. 
The hands were both heavily covered with 
blood; in some places it had congealed, and 
looked very dark, but in the center between 
the fore and little fingers, on the upper part of 
the hand, the blood was quite fresh and flowed 
freely. Not knowing at the time, what I learned 
afterwards, that the wiping of the hands causes 
her intense pain, I proceeded to wipe off the 
hands for a more perfect inspection of the wound 
on each hand. The wound or stigma on the 
right hand seemed more than one inch in length, 
about half an inch at its greatest width, and is of 
oval shape; turning the hand I saw a wound of 
the same form in the palm of the hand, and 
opposite the wound on the back of the same. 
The blood seemed to raise in bubbles forming in 
rapid succession, flowing in a spread stream 
down to the wrist. Examining the wound itself 
I was well convinced that the skin of the hand 
was not broken, nor in any way injured, and 
there was no sign of a wound made by any 



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material instrument, sharp or dull. And, withal, 
the blood oozing out of the wound appeared a 
reality, and complete in form. It being impossi- 
ble to see the wounds of the feet and side, I 
ventured to unhook the dress of my patient at 
the neck to see the shoulder. It proved a sad 
sight ! It had the appearance of being 
cruelly bruised, and the flesh crushed to a jelly. 
On the top of the shoulder the bruise seemed 
about three to four inches wide, but, though it 
looked raw and fresh, yet it did not bleed at the 
time. It is on the right shoulder. The hair had 
been cut short and combed over the forehead, 
almost down to the eyebrows. I brushed it 
back with my hands, to see the marks of the 
Crown of Thoms. I observed spots of dark 
yellow skin, at irregular intervals, and about a 
dozen in number. I could discern them pretty 
easily, without a magnifying glass (using my 
spectacles, of course), at the top of the forehead 
and the base of the hair of the head. These 
wounds were dry; that is, did not bleed in the 
least when I saw them. I leaned back on the 
chair leisurely, to reflect on the revelation made 
when a change, like an electrical shock, came 
over Louise; her head fell back on the low 
pillow; her eyes opened to the utmost, raised 
upward, but slightly turned to the right; her 



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countenance had assumed a happy and bright 
look, and, as far as I could see, she ceased to 
breathe, became absolutely motionless, and 
seemed dead. It was the work of a moment, 
and took me so much by surprise that I had no 
time to reflect, and, in consequence, I felt com- 
pletely paralyzed. M. Cure, no doubt observing 
the shock it had given me, kindly stepped for- 
ward. “Monsigneur, the ecstacy has begun.” 
Moving off toward the front door, to admit the 
strangers, I followed him, in haste, and found 
that the English Benedictine Fathers, Revs. S. 
and A. and Mr. M. held possession of the door, 
and were the first to enter the house. M. Cure 
Neils admits twenty persons, who have observed 
the established rules and being “ticketed” every 
Friday during the ecstacy, but my four com- 
panions, and the five religious who pushed in, 
added ten persons to the usual number, and the 
room was much crowded. 

I mentioned before that, ordinarily, Louise 
does not impress a person as a handsome girl, 
yet the exclamation now echoes from every cor- 
ner of the room: “Isn’t she beautiful?” “How 
lovely she looks!” “That’s an angelic counte- 
nance!” And it is so true that no painter ever 
succeeded in representing an angelic face and 
heavenly expression, which, in any way, com- 



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pares with the supernatural beauty reflected in 
this countenance. It gives us an idea of the 
beauty and splendor of a glorified body of the 
new creation on the day of resurrection. In 
America the newspaper reporters are conceded 
to be surpassed in impudence only by a first- 
class commercial agent. On the continent, 
however, the newspaper men are, generally, not 
so obtrusive, and, as a class, much of the gentle- 
man. But in Bois d’Haine we had the mis- 
fortune of meeting with a sad exception, for this 
man, literally, played the part of a clown or 
buffoon. He skipped about the room, talked at 
the top of his squealing voice, explaining, in 
minutest detail, what Louise would do in this, 
the second and every other instant, making the 
whole, marvelously, look like a preconcerted 
ceremony, or show. He finally reached the end 
of his roll, and order was restored. The first of 
our party to step forward and bless her was Rev. 
A., and, in response, Louise smiled. This 
so-called “Smile” is not really a smile, in the 
natural order, but a peculiar lighting up of her 
countenance, her lips opening enough to see the 
, teeth. Rev. S., as you know, wears a slight 
beard on his chin, and on this day, not having 
shaved, and wearing his duster (which ought to 
have been white), he had anything but a clerical 



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appearance. He stepped forward to the foot of 
the bed and blessed her. As she responded, by 
the peculiar smile, a prolonged “Oh!” was heard 
all over the room, in the supposition that Rev. S. 
was what he appeared — a dutch farmer. M. 
Cure and the newspaper man simultaneously 
exclaimed: “Monsigneur, is that gentleman a 
priest?” and having answered in the affirmative, 
a joyous “Oh!” re-echoed through the room. 
Mr. M., as you remember, was mistaken for a 
priest In Chicago; and, several times on our 
European trip, he was believed to be my 
reverend companion. He advanced to bless her 
and did it in a very patriarchal manner, forming 
a large cross in a very solejnn way, but Louise 
did not smile. This so forcibly struck the old 
gentleman, that he turned away and wept 
bitterly. The Benedictine Father, from Eng- 
land, went around, stood behind the headboard 
of the bed, and, from there, blessed Louise, 
which she again acknowledged by the beautiful 
“ Smile.” All these experiments were made in 
solemn silence, all eyes being fixed on the 
Ecstatic, and the hearts throbbing in admiration 
of the marvels witnessed. Monsigneur Dumond, 
speaking of the Ecstatic, said: “I do not know, 
and wished not to be informed, whether your 
pectoral cross has a ‘Relic of the Holy Cross’ 



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inclosed in it. But if it has that relic in it, I will 
now state how Louise Lateau will act when you 
present it to her: She will rise in her bed in a 
sitting posture, and hold the cross in her folded 
hands; her countenance will beam with joy, and 
she will thus remain till you take it away. And, 
Monsigneur, I do hereby give you all the author- 
ity which I have in her regard.” Of course, I 
was anxious to verify this statement, made one 
day before our arrival at Bois d’Haine. I took off 
my pectoral cross and held it by the chain over 
the breast of the Ecstatic. Like a flash she 
arose, bent over in a complete semi-circle, hold- 
ing my cross in her tightly-clasped hands, her 
eyes raised to Heaven, and her countenance 
beaming with joy, as if lit up by a Divine ray. I 
again took hold of the chain, without intending 
to take the cross away from her, and began to 
pull upwards, when I discovered, to my greatest 
amazement, that I could lift the Ecstatic at will, 
as if she weighed but a pound. But my amaze- 
ment increased to awe, when, in obedience to my 
thought, the Ecstatic promptly relaxed her hold 
of my cross and dropped, as if dead, on the bed. 
She had firmly clasped the cross with both hands 
all bloody — the precious streams flowing down 
the wrists for several minutes. But my cross 
had not a stain of blood on it — yes, it looked as 



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if it had just been polished. A new revelation 
had been made, and for the confirmation of 
it, I commanded her, in thought, to conscious- 
ness. At once she obeyed, turned her head 
towards me, and looked inquiringly at me. 

In thought again I said, “ That is enough,” and 
her head that moment dropped back, her eyes 
were fixed, and, as before, she ceased to breathe, 
at least as far as I could notice. It is said that 
Louise understands and speaks only the French 
language, but I am convinced, by the experiment 
made by me, that in her ecstacy she understands 
equally well English, German and Latin. 

Behold the wonderful change in her counte- 
nance! Excruciating pain is mirrored! a flood 
agony depicted ! her face bears the livid hue of 
death! her frame grows cold! she of a sudden 
extends both arms, crosses the right foot over 
the left, and her head sinks so that her chin rests 
on her chest. Almost involuntarily all present 
fall on their knees, for prayer, but are promptly 
disturbed by M. Cure insisting that the room 
must be cleared and the visitors depart. For 
this scene lasts only about ten minutes, 
and then Louise returns to consciousness. M. 
Cure Neils is under strict orders from his 
ecclesiastical superiors that Louise Lateau 
may not see, and, as far as possible, not know of 



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the presence of the many visitors during her 
agony and ecstacy on Fridays. On the 20th of 
July, 1877, the ecstacy commenced at one o’clock 
and fifty minutes, and we left the room at two 
o’clock and forty-five minutes in the afternoon. 

c. H. B. 



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XXIII. 



Bruges, July 26, 1877. 

Under ordinary circumstances I would feel 
obliged to apologize for the length of my last 
letter, but dealing entirely in the extraordinary, 
and flattering myself that you were anxious to 
have the report of all my observations, I hope 
that it received a cordial welcome. We spent 
several days, one of them a Sunday, in the 
ancient Catholic city of Ghent, which dates its 
origin to the 7th century, but was not of great 
importance until the 12th century. At this time 
history mentions it as a well fortified town, and 
towards the end of the 13th century Charles the 
Fifth said: “I will put Paris in my glove,” a dec- 
laration even till to-day kindly remembered by its 
inhabitants. Being pleasantly lodged in the hotel 
“ Golden Lion,” I am reminded of a little incident 
which Mr. M. did not relish. In Tournay we 
enjoyed the luxury of the hotel called the “ Golden 
Monkey.” Unfortunately, he became conscious 
of this fact by seeing the picture of a handsome 
monkey painted on the sign-board of the hotel. 
He shook his head saying: “It is tough to have 

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190 “AS THE BISHQP SA IV IT." 

it said in St. Louis that ‘we were caged with the 
monkey! ’ ” 

Our hotel of the “ Golden Lion” is in the imme- 
diate vicinity of St. Martin’s church, which is a 
beautiful edifice and very large. We arrived in 
the city at a late hour on Saturday evening and 
could not have the honor of an introduction to 
the reverend pastors of St. Martin’s. At seven 
o’clock the next morning I presented myself in 
the sacristy and met a Reverend Assistant, "who 
politely informed me that he had to see my 
papers, which I promptly handed him. He was 
evidently not familiar with a Papal Bull, for he 
took time and pains to study it. But having 
taken “it all in” he seemed to feel dreadfully 
embarrassed, and endeavored hard to ' make 
amends for his mistake by attention and kindness. 
This was the second time my papers were 
demanded in Europe. 

The cathedral of Ghent is also a vast struc- 
ture, and, though in its exterior it is somewhat 
heavy and by no means graceful looking, yet 
its interior is finely proportioned and richly dec- 
orated. It has a beautiful crypt, a handsome, 
carved pulpit, and many monuments and grand 
paintings. The tower is 272 feet high. The 
church of St. Nicholas is the oldest in the city, 
grand in style, which, in my opinion, is 



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greatly injured by the modern portico. In the 
church of St. Michael we had the pleasure of see- 
ing the celebrated painting of the “ Crucifixion ” 
by Van Dyke. We paid our respects to His 
Lordship the Bishop of Ghent, and found him an 
old, venerable-looking gentleman, rather austere 
of expression, very reserved and dignified in his 
manner and of medium stature. He received us 
very kindly, indulged in a good many questions 
about America; in particular about Belgian 
priests in the United States. 

We availed ourselves of the railroad facilities, 
the trains running as regularly on Sundays as 
week days, and made an excursion to Waerschoot, 
a country parish, and the village in which the 
V. Rev. E. Joos’ brother resides. He is a Notary 
Public, an important and often very lucrative 
office in this country. Our visit was a surprise, 
not only to the Notary, but all the village, whose 
curiosity seemed aroused to the highest degree. 
Having spent a few pleasant hours there, we 
returned to Ghent. Our next visit in this 
city was to the “Beguinage,” an institution, I 
believe, peculiar to Belgium, for we found one or 
two of them in all the larger cities. Those in this 
city, however, are the most extensive in the coun- 
try. W e went to the one nearest our hotel, which 
is not the largest, but consists of three hundred 



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houses, besides the convent for the Sisters in 
charge of the institution. The whole is an exten- 
sive square piece of ground, surrounded by a 
high brick wall, with a large gateway in the 
center of the front side of the square. The 
houses are built in a row along the walls, then a 
street, and on the opposite side of the street the 
second row of houses is built ; this is tapped by 
the intersecting streets, built up with houses to 
the right and left. They terminate at the cen- 
tral park — the grounds for general recreation. 
The pretty large church for the inmates of the 
institution stands at the right, and ( the convent of 
the Sisters in charge at the head of this park. 




Gateway. 



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This, of course, is a very imperfect diagram of 
the grounds, but it will serve to give you a 
remote idea of the arrangements of the institu- 
tion. It is in truth a small city of Religions 
within the great city, having its spacious and 
lesser streets, and. a beautiful central park. The 
houses of brick are all two stories high, built in 
the same style and of the same dimensions, and 
look plain and neat. 

Any Catholic female who is single or a widow,, 
young or old, can enter and live in this institu- 
tion upon these simple conditions: 

ist. She must have a sufficient competency 
for her own support, or be willing to earn it by 
her industry. 

2d. She, must be willing to submit to the 
strict observance of the discipline of the institu- 
tion. 

Everyone of the inmates is perfectly free, at 
pleasure, to leave the institution, but her depart- 
ure is for good, she being not allowed to return. 
They are not bound by any vows; hence, if an 
opportunity offers to settle in the world, or if 
anyone feels dissatisfied with this religious retire- 
ment, they leave without the slightest reproach. 
The inmates wear a uniform, or a kind of relig- 
ious habit, which somewhat resembles that of the 
novices in the regular convents. There are 



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Sister servants of the institution, who go into the 
city for the marketing and general supply of pro- 
visions. They, too, wear a uniform dress, which 
is much like that worn by the portresses of the 
convent of the “Good Shepherd.” Each house 
being provided with a small kitchen, the inmates 
cook their own meals and enjoy the little or 
plenty, according to their own means. The first 
impression, no doubt, is that the institution is a 
“Home” for the disappointed, and old maids. 
But my inquiry led to the conviction that this 
impression is a mistake, for in this country it is 
regarded as a kind of religious institution and held 
in great esteem. This was confirmed during our 
sojourn in this city (Bruges), when the Rt. Rev. 
Bishop went to the Beguinage, for the reception 
of a wealthy young lady from that city and after 
the ceremony presided at the grand feast pre- 
pared for the inmates by her parents. 

We all know that customs of a national type 
are found in all the older countries, and are 
things upon which a stranger has no right to sit 
in judgment, and, if he ventures even an opinion, 
he is not likely to manifest great wisdom. I beg 
to simply state the facts which I observed. In 
France the people are seen frequently working in 
the fields on Sundays and Holy days, and the 
retail business houses in the cities are open in the 



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forenoon on those days, as well as during the 
week. In Italy it is seldom that the people are 
seen working in the fields on Sundays, but in the 
cities they do the same as in France. In Switz- 
erland nobody works in the fields on Sunday, but 
the stores are open. In Germany I saw masons 
and carpenters at work on a new house on Sun- 
day, the saloons open all day, but the retail 
stores closed at io o’clock in the morning, and 
occasionally I saw persons at work in the fields 
on Sunday. In Holland all the stores are closed 
on Sunday as soon as the first bells for divine 
service are rung, and the same rule prevails in 
Belgium, except in Ghent. Here all the stores, 
shops and saloons are in full blast from the rising 
to the setting of the sun. After sun-down only 
the saloons are kept open; the people, young and 
old, turn out and crowd the frequent public 
squares in the city, and the promenades are 
crowded with the gay. 

The city of Bruges is an important port of 
entry. It occupies a circumference of four miles. 
To-day it has only about one-fourth the number 
of inhabitants which it had in its most prosperous 
days. It became a fortified city early in the 9th 
century, when it graced the brow of the North 
sea, but the drainage of the sea for several 
miles has left it high and dry, an inland town. ' I 



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sent my letter of introduction to Monsigneur 
Bethune, who responded very promptly and vol- 
unteered himself as our guide. I have already 
adverted to the absence of His Lordship the 
Bishop at the reception of the young and wealthy 
lady in the Beguinage, but meeting him on the 
following day,, we were charmed with his 
cordiality and the great kindness extended. He 
converses very freely in English. The cathedral 
has lately been refrescoed and looks quite fresh 
and new in the interior, the nave being 108 feet 
high and the aisles being in good proportion in 
height and width, you can form some idea of the 
dimensions of the whole. The church of Notre 
Dame is but a short distance from the cathedral, 
is an imposing structure and probably the most 
artistic church edifice in the city. Its tower 
and spire is 450 feet high, and serves as a land- 
mark for the mariners. It happened that our 
visit to this church was during the benediction of 
the Blessed Sacrament. The music was of the 
Palestrini style, the basso and tenor were good, 
the alto extraordinary, but the soprano was a 
marvel of perfection — quite as good, full and 
clear as the one we heard in St. Peter’s in Rome. 
There were only male voices in the choir. 

St. James’ church is the next door to our hotel; 
the reverend pastor being ill, the acting pastor 



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proved very kind to us. The exterior is almost 
hid from view, but the interior is handsome, to 
which the magnificent decorations for the patron 
feast, no doubt, greatly added. They have five 
bells in the belfry of the heavy-looking tower; 
three of them were rung for an hour on the eve, 
and for another hour early in the morning of the 
feast. At this church they had a first-class funeral 
during our stay in the city, and all the bells were 
rung for an hour. The Rt. Rev. Bishop having 
given us the requisite permission in writing, Mgr. 
Bethune was indefatigable in obtaining the keys, 
knowing that one of the persons would leave 
the city that very evening. The “Relic of 
the Precious Blood ” is‘kept in a beautiful chapel 
expressly built for it, and in a vaulted shrine 
locked by five keys in the hands of five persons, 
one of whom is a priest. The “ Precious Blood ” 
itself is in a glass tube of about eight inches long 
and one inch in diameter, and this tube is 
enclosed in a second glass tube, each of the two 
ends being surmounted by a gold crown, studded 
with diamonds and other precious stones, and 
finally the glass tubes rest in a grand shrine of 
pure gold, elaborately adorned with precious 
stones. The depth of the precious blood in the 
vial seems to be about one inch; it looks fresh in 
color, and not at all dark as congealed blood. 



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We were informed that this “Blood” had only 
twice liquified since the year 1308. 

Before taking leave of this city, in which we 
have spent several of the pleasant days of our 
continental trip, I beg to introduce you to the 
famous “Halles” a grand old structure, square 
in form and surmounted by a tower 354 feet 
high. It was used for general marketing, cen- 
trally located, and has many attractions for the 
citizens, as well as strangers. Of these, the 
numerous and sweet-toned set of chimes in the 
tower are not in the least. They are, perhaps, 
unsurpassed in Belgium, and not often equaled on 
the continent. * * * c. h. b. 



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XXIV. 



London, July 29, 1877. 

We are a second time in the great city of the 
world. Our first could not really be called a 
visit for we made the least possible delay, our 
chief aim being the Eternal city. 

But we are here to see all we can in the 
allotted time. I am far from believing such a 
course a wise one, for we have been thoroughly 
convinced by the cruel fatigue endured, that the 
plan of seeing and enjoying so much in such a 
short space of time is a mad folly. The other 
day a Rev. Mr. Raynard, of St. George’s in 
Southwark, related that a Frenchman in this city 
glorying in the grandeur of Paris, compared to 
London, was as much surprised as shocked at 
the cruel retort: “O, yes; we all cheerfully 
admit that Paris is a very respectable forebor- 
ough of London!” And if our impression does 
not greatly deceive us, the retort would not seem 
such an unpardonable exaggeration. We have 
hurried along in the cabs, passed over much 
ground, taken a general survey, seen a great deal 
— but the great task has scarcely been begun. 

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and we do not flatter ourselves at being able to 
do it with any satisfaction. If we could spend 
here two or three months, we might feel 
acquainted with the great city. It would border 
on absurdity if I were to attempt penning a 
description of the many points of note and admi* » 
ration in this letter, instead of writing a book on 
this subject. Therefore, I beg only to mention 
that we visited St. James’ and Hyde Park, the 
Buckingham Palace, the House of Parliament 
and Westminster Abbey, the British Museum, 
the Art Galleries, etc., etc. We walked through 
many of the most prominent streets for the better 
inspection and more perfect enjoyment of the 
magnificence displayed in them; we drove in 
cabs through several of the grand avenues lead- 
ing into the remoter portions of the city, and 
from the first to the last our impression was con- 
firmed that “London is the great city of the 
world.” St. Paul’s cathedral is considered the. 
grandest structure in the city. It is built on the 
site of the Catholic cathedral — the summit of 
Ludgate hill — which was destroyed in the great 
fire of 1 666. It is 510 feet long and 250 feet 
wide in the transcept, but 180 in the main body, 
and cost £747,954 sterling, gathered by taxes. 
The exterior is handsome and imposing, but the 
interior is devoid of ornaments and impresses the 



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visitor with sad disappointment. Mr. M. re- 
marked: “I am disappointed; the church looks 
as cold as Protestantism! ” But in my opinion 
St. Paul’s cathedral does not even remotely com- 
pare with the Westminster Abbey *in beauty and 
grace of style, and in the imposing grandeur of 
the whole. It dates to the early part of the 7th 
century, but the greater portion of the present 
structure was completed in 1245. It is built in 
the form of a cross, 5 1 1 feet long, 203 feet in the 
transcept, and the tower 225 feet high. The 
style of architecture is the pure Gothic, with the 
exception of the repairs made after the revolu- 
tion, designed by Wren, the architect of St. 
Paul’s, which are a mixture of Grecian and 
Gothic. St. George’s cathedral in Southwark is 
the largest and the most beautiful of the Catholic 
churches in this city, and in many respects resem- 
bles the new cathedral in the city of Chicago, 
and costing, we are told, about £30,000 sterling, 
or a little less than- the one in Chicago. All the 
rest of the Catholic churches are plain structures, 
no doubt, built for the immediate needs of the 
people, in keeping with the limited means at the 
disposal of Catholicity, but emerging from the 
tombs of the so-called reformation. We stopped 
at the “Queen’s hotel,” opposite the post office, 
almost under the shadow of St. Paul’s cathedral, 



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and in the very heart of the city, and inquiring 
for the nearest Roman Catholic church, the chief 
clerk replied that he did not know, but would 
ascertain it from some of the waiters. He 
returned to the office stating that no person in 
the hotel could give us the required information. 

Of course, starting out ourselves, we found 
the Pro-cathedral of His Eminence Cardinal 
Manning, only half a dozen squares from the 
hotel. I mention this fact because, from a busi- 
ness point of view, it would be to the interest of 
the persons giving the desired information, and 
as far as I could judge, none of the parties 
seemed to be over-stocked with religion to make 
them bigoted. Hence, I felt inclined to ascribe 
the ignorance to their supine indifference in relig- 
ious matters. This was strongly confirmed on 
the following Sunday. From the thousands of 
the lower classes who spend the Sunday in sitting 
and lying on the door-steps and lounging about 
the streets, frequenting the saloons, and crowd- 
ing the docks, the utter religious indifference is 
but too apparent. It is true that at all the ser- 
vices the Catholic churches were well filled, but 
not as crowded as the population would seem to 
demand. In like manner the general brilliant 
aspect of the city is intermingled with the sad, 
sobriety having its frequent exhibits of intemper- 



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ance, prosperity and luxury being humiliated by 
the extreme poverty and wretchedness which 
follows in its wake, fashion and gentility being 
shamed by the utter destitution and raggedness 
of the many. 

The Regent’s park, embracing 403 acres of 
ground, and being artistically laid out and kept 
in perfect order, furnishes a delightful drive of 
two miles on the first circular road, and toward 
the north leads to the several avenues of the 
Zoological gardens, but they are almost too exten- 
sive to be enjoyed by those who do not feel at 
liberty to return several days. For that reason I 
was better pleased with the Surrey Zoological 
gardens, only fifteen acres in dimensions, with a 
lake of three acres for the enjoyment and excel- 
lent display of the greatest variety of water fowl. 

W e had the pleasure of listening to a discourse 
delivered by His Eminence Cardinal Manning in 
St. Ann’s church, either by special invitation on 
the part of the pastor, or by the force of neces- 
sity; for the subject so ably advocated by the 
Cardinal was, “The Necessity of a Catholic 
Parochial school.” The attire and the attend- 
ance of His Eminence was strictly rubrical; his 
personal appearance verified the description fre- 
quently given of him; his style of elocution is 
very English in enunciation, modulation and ges- 



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ticulation. His voice is full and strong, but he 
indulges very little modulation and scarcely any 
gesture, save that of the occasional raising of the 
right arm and the pointing of the index finger. 

But the tall, emaciated figure of His Eminence, 
the earnestness of his countenance, the solemnity 
surrounding him, and the solidity of his argu- 
ments have a telling effect on his audience, be 
they Catholics or Protestants, of the humbler or 
the highest ranks of society. 

Although rather cold and distant in his man- 
ners and without the rigid adherence to English 
usages, yet on account of his nobility of charac- 
ter, sanctity of life and acknowledged erudition, 
he is universally respected, revered by his own, 
and honored by the nobles of the land. 

Meeting His Eminence, a person almost invol- 
untarily is reminded of the answer given on a hot 
July morning by Rev. Fr. Marshall. Being 
asked the usual question: 

“How are you?” 

“Very cold; very cold,” said he, “for I’ve just 
shaken hands with the Cardinal ! ” 

I know that this letter will greatly disappoint 
you, for which I tried to prepare you in the 
beginning, but a moment’s reflection will con- 
vince you that it is unavoidable. In this convic- 
tion, I am obliged to say, adieu! c. H. B. 



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XXV. 



Liverpool , Aug. j, 1877. 

The history of this city does not descend into 
antiquity, it being but an insignificant village of 
fishermen in the latter part of the 16th century. 
At present it is a city very much like Chicago in 
size (495,000 inhabitants), in enterprise and gen- 
eral activity. The public buildings are not of 
extraordinary architectural beauty. St. George’s 
hall is a sumptuous building in the Corinthian 
style, 420 feet in extreme length, the colonnade 
in the center 200 feet. Being situated in a 
large open space, it is exposed to view from each 
of the four sides. It is a handsome and imposing 
structure. 

Our hotel is directly opposite St. George’s hall 
and we are privileged to enjoy its sight at 
pleasure from our windows. The Revenue build- 
ings, the Town Hall and the Exchange buildings 
are of considerable note. The latter elicited 
considerable admiration from Mr. M., finding it 
in every respect far superior to the St. Louis 
Exchange, which he firmly believed unsurpassed 
in any city of its size. We called on His 

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Lordship Mgr. O’Reilley, who is the third 
Bishop of Liverpool, but we regretted finding 
him absent from home. We formed, however, a 
very pleasant acquaintance with this young and 
energetic prelate in Belfast, at the dedication of 
the new cathedral. 

The Pro-cathedral of St. Nicholas on Copperas 
Hill, established in 1812, is a very plain, modest 
structure. In this particular all the other 
churches share, none of them laying claim to 
artistic beauty. 

We were informed that about half of the popu- 
lation of this city is Catholic, which seemed 
strongly confirmed by the frequent signs of 
respect and reverence shown by the people in the 
center as well as in the remotest streets visited 
by us. 

There are but twelve ordinary-sized churches, 
seating from five to eight hundred persons, and 
eight good sized chapels, all of them seating 
about twelve thousand, and at the three different 
masses in all the churches about forty thousand 
people. From this it appears evident that there 
is not half room enough in the twenty church 
edifices to accommodate the people. We were 
delighted, observing that the attendance at mass 
on week days was much larger in this city than 
in the many larger cities visited, even in 
England. 



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207 



As a commercial city, you are, no doubt, more 
familiar with its immense trade than I could pre- 
sume to describe it. But the figures of receipts 
for dock dues being over two millions, and for 
custom dues being from fifteen to twenty millions 
of dollars, give some idea of its immense trade 
and justify me, in a measure, calling Liverpool 
the young rival of old London. 

The most remarkable feature of this great sea- 
port is the number and magnificence of the 
“Docks.” All of them are along the bank of 
the river Mersey. There are thirty of them, 
divided into wet, dry and graving docks. The 
wet docks are principally for ships of great bur- 
den, employed in foreign trade; the dry docks, so 
• called, are appropriated to coasting vessels; 
the graving docks are adapted to the repairing 
of vessels, and so arranged that the water can be 
admitted or excluded at pleasure. The extreme 
length on the bank of the river of the docks is 
five miles. The solidity, extent and beauty of 
these docks, and the excellence of the workman- 
ship of the wall of stone, it seems to me, is 
second to none of the kind in the world. 

The Zoological and Botanical gardens of Liv- 
erpool are very creditable — even good as far as 
they go — but only in their infancy, compared 
with those of Amsterdam, Antwerp, London, etc. 



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The same must be said of the Public Library and 
Derby Museum. 

The city is laid out in the European cobweb 
fashion, frightfully irregular, excepting some of 
the wider business streets, which frequently 
run pretty straight for a long distance. 

Among the Catholic educational institutions, 
the recently established Normal school in charge 
of the Sisters of Notre Dame is the most impor- 
tant. The Sisters set apart for the course of 
instruction are ladies of a high order of mental 
culture, accompanied by years of experience in 
training the youth. The school is well attended 
and in every way promises success. 

There are a great many charitable institutions 
in charge of the Sisters of Charity, of Mercy and . 
the Good Shepherd. The several religious com- 
munities have the charge of ninety-two schools 
for boys and girls in the Diocese of Liverpool. 
But as this would suppose that over one thousand 
pupils attend each of the existing schools, it 
becomes plain that over one-half the children can 
not attend the Catholic schools, not even in the 
city itself. 

The Northwestern hotel of this city, in which 
we stop, is among the very best hotels in England 
and on the continent, indulging in the luxury of 
modern improvements, such as we, in America, 



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consider indispensable in any ordinary good 
hotel. The elevator, for instance, found in the 
Northwestern is introduced in but a very few 
hotels in Europe. 

From here we intend to go by rail to Holy 
Head, from there by steamer to Kingston, and 
from there by rail to Dublin. The weather is 
charming, our health good, and we will avail 
ourselves of the first opportunity to send a report 
from Ireland. It is amusing to see the reluctance 
of Mr. M. in leaving this city, where he has 
formed the acquaintance of some very kind 
friends, and his prejudices are not in favor of Ire- 
land. c. H. B. 



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XXVI. 



Dublin , Aug. 26, 1877. 

At last we are in the metropolitan city of Ire- 
land. Although the almost incessant rain has 
not allowed us to take an extensive view of 
things, yet we have spent some hours in the 
morning and evenings going about on foot 
observing the houses, the stores and shops, but 
particularly the people on the streets of the dif- 
erent quarters of the city. I am truly sorry that 
such a state of ragged poverty surrounds us, but 
street beggary is comparatively seldom. In 
France, Italy, Germany and Switzerland intem- 
perance on the streets is among the rare events; 
in Holland, Belgium and England it is met with 
from time to time, but here it is an exception if 
you do not meet it within every scpiare. You 
may apologize and account for the sad state of 
poverty which exists, for the general ragged 
appearance of the young and old, which fills you 
with sympathy and pity; but one blushes in 
attempting to “whitewash” the miserable state of 
drunkenness of young and old men, and even 

young and old women on the public streets. 

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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 211 

But the fact becomes more humiliating, when it 
cannot be denied that the horrid public exhibit is 
more common with old and young women. All 
that meets the eye would seem to conspire in the 
general gloom, the absence of freshness in the 
exterior appearance of the stores and dwellings, 
the filthy streets and the universal lack of tidi- 
ness in appearance of the people. 

A letter awaiting our arrival at the “European 
Hotel ” had given us a favorable introduction 
which was strongly endorsed by Mr. Michael 
O’Neil, formerly my sexton at the cathedral in 
Cincinnati. He had been at the hotel some days, 
and no doubt had favored Mrs. Maloney, the 
landlady, with my history, as far as he was in 
possession of it. At any rate, upon our arrival 
the landlady extended as cordial a welcome as if 
we had been numbered among her best friends, 
and we were entitled to the very best accommo- 
dations in the house. 

My first visit was to His Eminence Cardinal 
Cullen, who resides in one of a block of houses. 
The house does • not deserve the name of the 
“Palace,” for it is neither large nor handsome, 
such as an American dry goods clerk would 
not feel proud of. His Eminence had been quite 
sick and his physician had ordered him to retire 
into the country for the enjoyment of the neces- 



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sary quiet, and, having left my card, I drove 
back to the hotel. 

The church of St. Dominic and the Dominican 
convent being quite convenient, Mr. Michael 
O’Neil kindly made the necessary arrangements 
for me to say mass in that church during our 
stay in this city. This enabled me to listen to 
the eloquent sermon of the renowned Father Tom 
Burke, O. P., on the Patron feast — St. Domi- 
nic’s day, the 4th inst. Although it was Satur- 
day, yet the church was crowded to its utmost 
capacity at the 10 o’clock high mass. The pane- 
gyric of the saint by Father Burke was a mas 
terpiece of oratorical composition, the delivery 
grand, and the effect on the people was mani- 
fested by the abundant streams of tears flowing 
from the eyes of the majority of his audience. I 
knew that the orator was very unwell, that he 
arose from his bed and went to the pulpit; but 
he had so nerved himself that whilst he spoke no 
person could have suspected him a sick man. 
The next morning, inquiring about him, I was 
told that Father Burke, returning from the pul- 
pit to the convent, immediately went to bed and 
remained there still.* 

Our first drive out of the city was to the ceme- 
tery, which, they claim, is among the handsomest 
in the world; and, in truth, it is beautiful in the 

* This was Father Burke’s last illness. 



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arrangements of the walks, in its many monu 
ments and the many tomb chapels. The monu- 
ment erected in memory of Daniel O’Connell is 
165 feet high, very graceful and a fine piece of 
workmanship. In the tomb chapel under the 
monument the casket containing his remains, the 
caskets of his two sons and of the wife of one of % 
his sons are exposed to view. There are a great 
many more private tomb chapels, some of them 
quite elaborate in workmanship and of excellent 
design, in which, we are told, it is permitted to 
have the mass of the month’s mind celebrated for 
the deceased. The new mortuary chapel in the 
course of construction is a simple but beautiful 
stone structure, and pretty large in size. 

From the city of the dead we drove to the 
Botanical gardens, which is but a short distance. 
We were happily surprised by the artistic 
arrangements, and the completeness of the con- 
servatories. The natural beauty of the grounds 
demands only a moderate skill in adorning and 
enhancing them to make the garden what it is, 
one of the most magnificent of the kind in the 
world. 

Leaving the Botanical gardens a ride of fifteen 
minutes brought us to the gate of All Hallows. 
Rev. J. G. Doherty and Mr. John Lovett, from 
our diocese having been students of theology in 



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it, we felt an interest in becoming better 
acquainted with it by our visit. But it being the 
time of vacation we found only one living being 
in the house and he was sick; in vain did we try 
to announce ourselves, and rang the college bell ; 
in vain did we exercise patience to get sight of a 
porter. We took our leave after inspecting the 
exterior of the building and the grounds sur- 
rounding it. It is a new, but very quaint and 
odd-looking building, of a style which it would not 
be easy to name, except that the architect did 
not aim at any style in particular, for it looks 
like a large, massive, unadorned structure, which 
is more remarkable for its quaintness than 
beauty. The grounds around the college are 
spacious, but not only devoid of every ornamen- 
tation, but the grand courtyard in front exhibits 
neither care nor taste for the beautiful. 

Our next visit was to the church of the Holy 
Cross and college of the same name under the 
special patronage of His Eminence Cardinal 
Cullen. The college is a large, plain and beauti- 
ful structure, but it is not entirely finished, 
though in use; in consequence the grounds 
had not received the required attention. The 
church, erected for the students of the college 
and the Catholics of the vicinity, is in the Roman 
style of architecture, faithfully carried out in. 



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every detail. It has three very handsome marble 
altars made in Rome; the sides of the church in 
the interior are adorned with very fine paintings, 
illustrative of the Holy Cross scenes from the old 
and new testaments, and the ceiling of the same 
is handsomely frescoed. The whole impresses 
the visitor as a model church. Upon the occa- 
sion of the consecration of the church you may 
remember His Eminence Cardinal Franchi, Pre- 
fect of the S. Congregation of the Propaganda in 
Rome, honored Cardinal Cullen with his pres- 
ence, surrounded by all the Catholic Bishops of 
Ireland. 

Returning to the city, the smiling sun had set 
and the banks of dark, threatening clouds indi- 
cated plainly that we would be treated to a 
thunder storm before we arrived at our hotel. 
You may be sure we were not disappointed, for 
it poured rain in torrents before we reached our 
destiny. 

The very name tells of the sacrilegious robbery 
of the only grand structure — the St. Patrick’s 
cathedral — in the city of Dublin. It bears all 
the marks of genuine antiquity in its exterior 
grandeur and interior Catholic finish. But at 
present it is the cathedral of the Episcopal 
Protestant Bishop, and the church of Protestant 
worship of which they make St. Patrick their 



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216 "AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 

patron! — for the most solemn condemnation of 
which the saint in his lifetime would most will- 
ingly have suffered martyrdom. 

The new cathedral of the Catholic Archbishop 
is a very plain church edifice of a very moderate 
size and without a tower. The other Catholic 
churches in this city share in the modesty of the 
new cathedral, and are but small and unsightly 
temples of God; but the new church of the 
Sacred Heart on the other side of the river 
.Liffey is pretty large and a handsome structure. 

The Dublin castle, the official palace of the 
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, is truly more 
remarkable for its size than architectural beauty. 
The former Irish parliament house, now the 
Bank of Ireland, is one of the finest buildings in 
the city, having a splendid colonnade of Ionic 
pillars in front. Near by is Trinity college, an 
imposing modern structure of the Corinthian 
order. It is attended by a large number of 
students; has two libraries, one of 130,000 and 
the other 20,000 volumes, and a pretty good 
museum. The Four Courts is a massive stone 
building stretching 500 feet along the King’s 
Quay on the river Liffey, and having a beautiful 
portico of heavy Corinthian columns, the center 
surmounted by an immense circular “Lantern” 
having twelve windows, and twenty-four Corin- 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 217 

thian columns. The whole looks heavy and 
sombre, yet it is one of the most imposing 
buildings in the city. 

We visited the industrial school in charge of 
the Christian Brothers a few miles out of the 
city. There are about 700 boys in the institu- 
tion, the order observed perfect, and the indus- 
trial department admirable, the chief branches of 
which are painting, tailoring, boot and shoe 
making, carpentering, blacksmithing, etc. After 
we had gone through the several work-shops, in 
which the boys were busy at their work, we 
were conducted to the central play grounds, and 
a young officer came forward, blew the military 
bugle call and remained standing at his post. 
Presently a procession of the 700 boys marched 
out into the grounds. The young bugler blew 
the signal for the drill, which was performed 
with charming precision and was interesting to a 
little excitement. The next signal from the 
bugler was for the brass band, consisting of some 
thirty boys from 10 to 16 years — 16 being the 
age of the leader of the band — and they played 
several pretty difficult pieces of music, in which 
they displayed admirable good taste, great facil- 
ity in execution, and a remarkable musical talent. 

Upon the signal given by the bugler, these re- 
tired and another class of at least thirty musicians 



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stepped forward — it was the orchestra or band 
of stringed music. I felf almost sorry to see this 
band take the stand, knowing the great difficulty 
in avoiding the tortuous scratchings on the string 
instruments, fearing that their efforts would 
be much inferior to the brass band. But we 
were delightfully disappointed, for the perform- 
ance was highly creditable — one of which a band 
of older musicians might not be ashamed. 

We gave them a day of recreation and 
furnished them means for a little extras, and the 
young bugler gavd the signal for the return 
march of the cheering boys. c. H. B» 



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XXVII. 



Belfast, Aug. 12, 1877. 

In former days I had heard much of Drogheda 
from persons who had spent a great deal of time 
visiting there with some very intimate friends, 
and that tempted me to stop. It is a small city, 
but rather romantically situated, and judging 
from its general aspect, it seems to enjoy a 
fair share of vitality. We saw the four churches 
which are very plain edifices, though the two 
new ones are rather pretty, yet of no artistic note. 
The stores are not very extensive in size or 
business, but have an appearance of thriftiness 
about them, especially on the principal streets. 
The dwellings in this city are generally not very 
large, the majority of them in the remoter streets 
are indeed rather small, but they all look as if 
they had been taken care of, and as if cleanliness 
is here considered a virtue. We learned that 
the great races would come off the following day 
and that was a signal for us to move on, lest 
someone might possibly suppose that the event 
had brought us to the city. The next city of 
interest is Dundalk, north of Drogheda. The 

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two principal streets are each one mile in length, 
and a market place in both of them; the court 
house is built in the Doric style of architecture 
with a massive portico in front; the older houses 
are of stone, but the more modern con- 
structed of brick. The Catholic cathedral (so- 
called) is a very beautiful structure and the 
only one of any merit. It is somewhat of a manu- 
facturing town, having observed a foundry in 
which machinery and agricultural implements 
are manufactured, pin, match and starch factories 
and a pretty extensive distillery. 

We paid a hurried visit to Lisburn, which, 
among the several cities along the railroad 
between Dublin and Belfast, looks the most 
prosperous. The manufacture of the finest 
linen is not the least of its trade, here you see 
the system of bleaching the linen in perfection. 
There is but one Catholic church in the town 
and the public spirit is sufficiently unkind to 
prove that there is a remnant of the Hugenot 
poison left. 

Arriving at Belfast we engaged a cab to take 
us to the “ Royal Hotel ” to which we had been 
recommended on account of the religion of the 
landlady, she being a good Catholic. The cab 
and jaunting car drivers are a . peculiar race of 
men — very good drivers, very attentive to the 



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passengers, very inquisitive, full of the gab and 
witty. As soon as his horse was started on a 
trot, he turned to me, saying: “I’m proud yer 
honor was in no dread to come into the midst of 
the riot ! ” I had taken pains in watching the 
progress of the reported riots in this city and 
found in the “ Freeman’s Journal of Dublin” that 
“Quiet and order had been restored.” 'You 
may, therefore, imagine our surprise at the unex- 
pected compliment of our driver. He* however, 
had no sooner discovered his mistake than he 
added: “I’m sorry, yer honor, that the storm 
ain’t over, but ye need not be unaisy, for the bat- 
tle is not in this end of the town.” Coming to 
the hotel we were a little annoyed, being told 
that the house is crowded and we will have to 
ascend to the third story. It is situated in a 
central position in Donegal place, opposite to the 
Linen hall and only one square from High street, 
the principal business thoroughfare of the 
northern metropolis. Here we find an astonish- 
ing difference in the aspect of things; here the 
life and activity of the many great cities on the 
continent and in England are re-enacted. The 
rush of every branch of business, the thronged 
streets, the fresh and clean looks of the people, 
the elegant stores and the grand display of goods 
in the show windows, the profuse display of 



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fashion on the streets and on the promenades, all 
conspire in the impression that there is a happy 
degree of prosperity reigning here. There is 
scarcely a vestige of the wretched intemperance 
and ragged poverty of Which I made mention in 
my former letter, and I sincerely hope we may 
not see again. After dinner I put myself in 
charge of a jaunting car driver, for he declared 
he was familiar with his Lordship’s palace, which 
proved true. But we did not find the Rt. Rev. 
Dr. Dorian, the Bishop of Belfast, at home, and 
leaving our card, we returned to the city, a 
ride of about four miles from the hotel. 

About two hours later His Lordship Bishop 
Dorian called on me at the hotel, extended a cor- 
dial welcome and at once insisted on my staying 
for the dedication of his new cathedral. His 
Lordship had sent word to the reverend pastor 
of St. Malachy’s, the church nearest to our hotel, 
and Rev. Fr. Brennan soon came to extend his 
welcome and invite us for dinner on the next 
day. 

This city has the reputation of being the first 
city in Ireland. First by no means in its histor- 
ical antiquity, as such it dates scarcely two 
hundred years ; but first in commercial prosper- 
ity. This, it seems to me, ought to be readily 
conceded. It is also an extensive manufacturing 



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city, which is not the least contributing source of 
its prosperity. Besides the manufacture of linen, 
for which it is renowned in America and Europe, 
the manufacture of cotton goods is carried on in 
the most improved manner and on a grand scale. 
The four great shipyards furnish lucrative and 
permanent employment to many mechanics; the 
four large foundries employ many men, and in 
like manner the several other branches, i. e. : the 
two large distilleries, the twelve breweries, the 
several large flour mills, the two vitriol works, 
the felt manufactory, the saw mills, etc. They 
all do their share in maintaining the life and 
prosperity of the city. It is claimed that over 
five thousand large vessels annually enter the 
port of Belfast, some thirty-five steamers ply reg- 
ularly between this city and London, Glasgow, 
Liverpool, Carlisle, etc., etc. 

St. Malachy’s church is a large but an unsightly 
building, offering not an excuse for architectural 
beauty. Originally it was built for the crowd of 
poor people in the low grounds ; but, whilst they 
are not excluded, the thrift and perseverance of 
the once poor people have enabled many to rise 
to an honorable competency, and they appear in 
the church now as respected citizens. The paro- 
chial residence stands a little back from the 
street on the left gospel side of the church and is 



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a spacious brick building. Punctual to the hour 
we entered the residence of Rev. Dr. Brennan 
and were delighted in again meeting His Lord- 
ship Dr. Dorian, who had arrived before us and 
joined the dinner party at 3 o’clock. In the 
course of the conversation we related the rather 
strange observations made during our morning 
walk in exploring the city. I remarked that I 
had been greatly edified by the true Catholic 
spirit manifested by the people in town, by the 
uniform reverence at meeting a priest on the 
streets. But we had met with a very strange 
exception, for in most of the streets the people 
did not only look at us with a sullen surprise, but 
in some instances they frowned from feelings of 
bitterness. At this moment all eyes were rest- 
ing on us in great astonishment. His Lordship 
asked: “But pray, Monsigneur, where were 

you?” Not having paid attention to the name 
of the streets, I related that having gone from 
our hotel to High street, we concluded to become 
acquainted with some of the minor streets and 
turned to the right, again to the left, and walked 
on through several streets until we came to an 
out-of-the-way market. “ My God ! ” exclaimed 
Father Brennan, “you were at ‘Shank’s Hill’ 
and in the very camp of the enemy, and it’s a 
wonder you were not stoned.” Seeing the dan- 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 225 

ger to which we had unwittingly exposed our- 
selves, I answered Dr. Brennan: “Well, at that 
rate, I guess we will have to forgive them for the 
frowns and sullen looks.” This created a general 
mirth and the scare passed away. After the 
usual formalities after dinner, His Lordship bowed 
himself away, having invited us to meet the 
several Bishops, who had arrived, for dinner to- 
morrow at 5 o’clock p. m. at’ the Palace. We 
determined on an afternoon walk instead of going 
to rest, but we made sure not to return to Shank’s 
Hill. We turned our direction to the several 
cotton mills, were charmed with the grand buzz 
of the machinery and pleased with the simplicity 
and solidity of the building in which this 
important branch of industry is carried on. The 
time had passed so pleasantly that we were a 
little surprised to find the hundreds of young 
women streaming out of the factories and hurry- 
ing home for refreshments and rest. 

Among the arrivals at the Royal hotel were, 
the Most Rev. Dr. McGettigan, Primate of all 
Ireland; the Most Rev. Dr. O’Reilly, Bishop of 
Liverpool, and several of the reverend clergy 
from the distance. This furnished us a charming 
recreation for the evening, and we very reluc- 
tantly accepted the challenge to retire for the 
night’s rest at a late hour. 



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At the first great dinner given to-day by the 
Most Rev. Bishop of Belfast, he was not disap- 
pointed in his anticipations of having many of the 
invited and announced prelates present and mak- 
ing it an introductory reunion. There were fif- 
teen Bishops assembled, among them the Most 
Rev. Dr. McGettigan; the Most Rev. Dr. Croke, 
Archbishop of Cashel; two from the United 
States of America, and one from England. 
There were about twenty invited priests at din- 
ner. At 5 o’clock p. M. everything was ready 
and Rt. Rev. Dr. Dorian, and Most Rev. Dr. 
McGettigan led the way, grace was said and the 
serious work commenced. Rt. Rev. Dr. Dorian 
opened the speech making by a very handsome 
little address of welcome to his distinguished 
guests; similar little speeches were indulged in 
by many of the prelates; even the two American 
Bishops felt compelled to respond to the frequent 
flattering allusions made to them and the Ameri- 
can Episcopate. It was nearly 9 o’clock when 
the party rose and went back to the parlors, 
and a quarter of an hour later all the guests took 
affectionate leave and began to disperse. 

Most Rev. Dr. McGettigan, Rt. Rev. Dr. 
O’Reilley, Rt. Rev. Dr. Golbary, U. S. A., and 
your humble servant were in the same carriage 
returning to the city. W e had to pass through the 



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lines of the two belligerent parties and this fact 
created some uneasiness, which increased to almost 
a scare when our carriage stopped and we saw 
ourselves surrounded by a thousand 3 r oung 
women whose aprons were filled with boulders. 
The driver jumped from the seat, entered into a 
whispering explanation with one of the armed, 
and a gentle command caused the female com- 
batants to file right and left, and we drove home 
without further molestation. We had but little 
time left for mutual entertainment, it being io 
o’clock p. M. when we returned to the hotel. 

c. H. B. 



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XXVIII. 



Belfast , Aug. ij, i8jj. 

Fearing that my last would prove tedious, I 
resolved to delay the report of the great event of 
yesterday for this letter. On account of the 
rioting continued in the Shank’s Hill portion of 
the city, the Mayor judged it prudent to caution 
the Rt. Rev. Dr. Dorian adding, unfortunately, 
that he could not be held responsible for good 
order if the celebration took place. The reply of 
His Lordship was characteristic: “Permit me to 
request your honor not to be alarmed, the cele- 
bration will take place, order will be maintained. 
But I pledge my honor, that if we are disturbed 
to-morrow by the mob, every Protestant church 
in this city will be in ashes in twenty-four 
hours.” 

We drove to the new church at 9 o’clock on 
Sunday morning (the 12th inst.) knowing from 
experience that all parties are inclined to arrive at 
the latest moment. There were eighteen Bishops 
assembled and about sixty priests, who formed a 
procession according to their respective dignities 

and rank. The procession of the clergy began 

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to move .at io o’clock, and arriving at the front 
door of the new church and forming a semicircle 
His Grace Dr. McGettigan in full Pontificals 
stepped forward and commenced the solemn 
blessing of the new temple, according to the pre- 
scribed ritual. The four streets leading to the 
church were literally packed with people, the 
great majority being young, healthy and strong 
looking men, their mien expressing not less 
determination than earnest devotion. All 
remained quiet and perfect order prevailed dur- 
ing the ceremony of the blessing. 

As soon as the church was thrown open it was 
rapidly filled with the devout of the female sex, 
the men crowding the aisles. But the vast assem- 
blage of the young men remained standing 
shoulder to shoulder in the streets, the hats off, 
bending their knees upon hearing the signal for 
the elevation, etc. From this it became evident 
that they had stationed themselves there to main- 
tain good order, which his honor the Mayor 
could not guarantee. In this they were so suc- 
cessful that not the least disturbance occurred. 
The Most Rev. Dr. McEvelly, Bishop of Galway, 
being blessed with a beautiful voice and a culti- 
vated musical ear, was the celebrant of the sol- 
emn Pontifical high mass, assisted by a full corps 
of officers, which in addition to the eighteen 



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230 “AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 

Bishops in cope and mitre, and the sixty 
priests gave the whole an impressive solemnity. 
After the first gospel His Grace Dr. Croke 
preached a well prepared and most eloquent ser- 
mon on the “Dedication of the Temple of God.” 
The voice of Dr. Croke is but of a moderate 
compass, yet clear and distinct. His gestic- 
ulation is dignified and at times rather vehe- 
ment, and on the whole pleasing, but as an 
artistic elocutionist he is hardly mediocre. But 
the subject of the discourse, the development of 
the same, and the whole as a composition elicited 
great admiration. Haydn’s Mass, No. 6, with an 
excellent orchestral accompaniment, was well 
rendered, and the singers acquitted themselves 
very creditably of their respective parts. A Miss 
Meenan sang an alto solo, “Ave Maria,” in which 
she proved herself to be the possessor of a voice 
of extraordinary compass, taking G in the bass as 
easily as G in the second octave of the treble, 
singing within the two octaves with a fullness, 
power and skill that established her the queen of 
the day. Miss M.’s power of voice and her art in 
using it were confirmed in the Offertory-piece, in 
which the tenor sang so shockingly “false” that 
the whole threatened to be a failure. But she 
managed to cover the mistake so successfully that 
only one of the Bishops, none of the clergy and 



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surely not many of the congregation discovered 
the blunder. 

The collection on that day was an important 
item, and at the offertory the celebrant and min- 
isters and all in the sanctuary remained seated 
until the collectors had returned with their well 
filled baskets. Bishop Galberry and I were 
sitting on the gospel side in the sanctuary, in full 
view of the vast congregation. Imagine our 
consternation on seeing one of the collectors step 
into the sanctuary, presenting his basket to each 
of the Bishops, and the handsome rolls of bank- 
notes proved they were prepared for it. Such a 
thing never happens in the United States of 
America, and, hence, we suddenly found our- 
selves in an unpleasant predicament. Contrary to 
my custom at home, I was delighted in finding a 
few English sovereigns in my pocket and quickly 
handed Bishop Galberiy one of them. This 
saved our embarrassment a little, and a slight 
blush of humiliation was the penalty. In conclu- 
sion after mass, the Rt. Rev. Dr. Dorian rose 
from his throne and made an eloquent address 
to the people, in which he expressed his great 
gratitude for the munificent collection taken up, 
stating that the amount, together with the fees at 
the door, amounted to over £2,500 sterling 
($12,000). Talk of poor Ireland after that 1 



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No matter what array of Archbishops, Bishops 
and priests you could assemble for the dedication 
of a church in any one of the largest cities it 
would simply be folly even to hope for such a col- 
lection in rich America. We were informed 
that the collection taken up at the dedication of 
the new cathedral at Armagh equaled this. The 
service over and not intending to attend the din- 
ner to be given in the seminary, I drove back to 
the hotel and found that it was half past three 
o’clock in the afternoon. It was a bright day 
and the weather so delightfully cool that the 
church was not uncomfortably warm, notwith- 
standing the immense crowd of people in it for 
five hours on the 12th day of August. 

The city papers declare the new St. Patrick’s 
cathedral “One of the finest churches in the 
United Kingdom,” and no doubt, it is a handsome 
structure. It is built in the Roman style in the 
form of a cross and constructed of a very fine 
quality of limestone. It measures 126 feet in 
length and 102 feet in the transcept, the whole 
appearing in good proportions. The site of the 
land did not permit greater dimensions. 

This evening His Lordship Dr. Dorian gives 
the third and last dinner to his distinguished 
guests, who may remain that long in this city. 

Among the several other churches in the city 



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St. Peter’s is one of the larger and decidedly the 
most beautiful, the rest being very plain and 
unpretentious buildings. Having spent nearly 
one week and having had the honor of forming the 
acquaintance of so many of the worthy Hier- 
arch}' of Ireland within that time, we have con- 
cluded to accept the invitation of His Grace Dr. 
McGettigan of going with him to Armagh where 
we hope to arrive this evening. c. H. b. 



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XXIX. 



Armagh, Aug. 17, 1877. 

The distance from Belfast is about thirty-three 
miles and direct railroad communication, the only 
unpleasantness being the change of cars at the 
junction of P£tadown. Here we were delight- 
fully surprised in seeing Mr. James Flattery and 
family on the platform waiting for the train from 
Dublin. They are from the city of Detroit and 
have spent nearly one year on the continent and 
in Ireland. 

Armagh, as you know, is a very ancient city, 
for its first cathedral was built by St. Patrick in 
455 and the Saint held the first Diocesian synod 
in this city in 448, the decrees of which are 
called “St. Patrick’s canons” and still extant. 
The city is situated on the sloping sides of a gentle 
eminence, the summit of which is crowned by 
St. Patrick’s cathedral, it forming the romantic 
center of a cluster of hills and mountains sur- 
rounding it. It is no wonder that the ancient 
Celts and St. Patrick selected this as a “Sacred 
spot,” worthy to be consecrated to Him who by 
the creative “Fiat,” called into being the beauty 

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' ‘A S THE BISHOP SA W IT." 235 

■of the place and the grandeur and majesty of the 
surrounding scenery. 

The landlord at the hotel Charlemont, at which 
we stopped, informed us that there are two Cath- 
olic churches in this city : the new cathedral, 
which we observed on our arrival and is now 
pointed out to us; the second is the old chapel. 
Our informant now pointed to the upper portion 
of the city. Starting out for a walk, we looked 
about for the old chapel, and seeing but one 
church which bore the unmistakable signs of 
genuine Catholicity, we felt satisfied that we had 
found the old chapel. We had agreed with His 
Grace before parting that we would say mass at 
7:30 this morning. We started in due time, 
came to the church, found the iron gate locked, 
and going to the rear or sanctuary gate it too, 
was locked and not a sign of life about it all. 
At a little distance I observed some men at work 
repairing the street, and, stepping* forward, I 
inquired of a man when the doors of the church 
would be open. 

The good man eyed me all over and replied, 
“I think yer Reverence is mistaken; sure, there is 
no mass in that church; come and I’ll show ye 
the chapel.” We were, innocently, it is true, in 
the act of taking possession of St. Patrick’s cathe- 
dral, the foundation walls to-day being the very 



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same which were built by St. Patrick — the 
sanctuary for centuries in keeping of the disciples 
of Ireland’s apostle, and the many saints who 
hallowed it with their prayers, and who here pre- 
pared themselves for their eternal triumph in the 
sanctuary of the Lamb. It is a grand old structure 
in the Gothic style of architecture, 183 feet long 
and built in the form of a cross, having a tower 150 
feet high. This accounts for my astonishment 
last evening when looking at this building I said : 
“If this is the old chapel, it seems a pity for His 
Grace to have built the new.” But we had 
failed in our worthy enterprise and submissively 
followed the young lady to whom our informant 
had committed us, down the hill until we came 
to the real old chapel. Here every door was 
opened and a happy little congregation was 
assembled to hear mass. Everything being pre- 
pared, I went immediately to the altar, prepared 
for mass and very soon I was invited by one of 
the priests to commence. At my mass some 
thirty persons received Holy Communion, and 
for a week day this was a proof of solid 
devotion. 

The new cathedral stands on the summit of a 
hill, some higher than that of the old, nearly at 
the extreme end of the city towards the railroad 
station. It is a lofty and imposing structure, 



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built of stone and in the pointed Gothic style; 
while it appears more graceful and conspicuous, 
yet it wants the solidity, massiveness and vener- 
able antiquity of the old St. 'Patrick’s. 

This city is said to be strongly protestant on 
account of the many humiliations it received in 
the repeated contests for its profession of faith. 
But, withal, at present, fully one-half the popula- 
tion is Catholic, the number of inhabitants being 
from nine to ten thousand'. 

In Belfast Mr. M. had invariably declined ac- 
cepting any invitation for dinner, excepting the 
first of Rev. Fr. Brennan, but on our journey to 
this city he had formed such acquaintance and 
taken such a liking to His Grace, Dr. McGettigan, 
that he cheerfully accepted his invitation for four 
o’clock to-day. Upon our arrival at the humble 
Episcopal palace, His Grace, in company with five 
priests, extended us a cordial welcome, urging 
us to remain with them as long as possible. His 
Grace took Mr. M. into his special charge, a 
kindness which so surprised and flattered the 
old man, that he delights in rehearsing the noble 
qualities of the Archbishop. After the dinner 
His Grace made a pretty informal speech, to 
which I was obliged to reply in a similar informal 
way. This gave me the desired opportunity 
for a pleasant revenge “ for the speech in Liver- 



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pool.” Giving a gentle hint they all called for a 
speech from Mr. M. Arising reluctantly and 
stating his inability to address such an august 
company, he thanked them for the compliment 
and finished by saying: “Permit me the pleasure 
of stating that I have had a high regard for 
the Irish people, since my acquaintance with 
them, and that during my business career, among 
my best and most staunch friends have been the 
Irish.” Of course I took pleasure in reminding 
him of his unkind speech in Liverpool, 
but the kindness, the generosity, the nobility 
witnessed within the last fortnight had so charm- 
ingly impressed him that he had entirely forgot- 
ten his former ideas, (or felt ashamed to father 
them). He insisted that the Irish people, in par- 
ticular the clergy, are the best in the world. 

On the morning of the 15th, a holy day of 
obligation here, I said the eight o’clock mass, 
immediately after the mass of His Grace, and 
was delighted that the Rev. Rector and I con- 
tinued giving Holy Communion to the people for 
over thirty minutes. Even at this early mass 
the church was crowded to its utmost extent, and 
that by people who appear in comfortable cir- 
cumstances in life, and are animated by a devout 
Christian spirit. 

Our visit to Armagh was delightful, the kind- 



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ness received noble, and everything well calcu- 
lated to leave a favorable impression. This 
afternoon we will start on our journey for the far 
famed province of Connaught, intending to stop 
in Mullingar over night for a better rest. 

c. H. B. 



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XXX. 



Galway, Aug. 18, i8yy. 

It was half past seven in the evening, when 
we arrived in Mullingar and' were lodged in 
McCormick’s Hotel. The landlady bade us wel- 
come and promised to provide the best rooms for 
us at her disposition. The servant girl on the 
second floor was startled by seeing us, muttered 
some apology, and hastened down stairs. In a 
few minutes she and the landlady hastened up 
and we were shown into a fine front room which 
served as a private parlor to the adjoining bed- 
room. But the servant girl grew in her convic- 
tion as to our character, during the little time 
she spent arranging the things in our rooms. 

The evening being rainy and disagreeable we 
settled down after supper for the rest of the eve- 
ning. Presently we were delightfully surprised 
by the excellent music discoursed by the military 
band. 

At a very unholy hour, four o’clock in the 
morning, I was awakened by an unearthly con- 
fusion of sounds, that I studied for a long time 

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"AS THE BISHOP SAW IT." 241 

and without success. What under the sun could 
the thing be? Such an everlasting quacking, 
such never-ending crowing, such murderous 
screaming and fluttering, and interminable cack- 
ling, it seemed as if the ducks, chickens, roosters 
and geese of creation held a monstrous mass meet- 
ing. There! listen to the squealing and the 
gentle bleating of the herds — Et horrende dictu! 
— the ominous and torturous brayings from hun- 
dreds of unpolished throats. I jumped up in the 
midst of this horrid concert, rushed to the 
window looking stealthily through the blinds, 
discovered to my great satisfaction that we were 
in the center of the great poultry market. The 
miserable little donkeys, who indulged in that 
tedious song, so indicative of themselves, were 
hitched to carts loaded down with chickens, 
ducks, geese, sheep and pigs. It was the first 
market of the kind I had ever seen, and there- 
fore soon felt pacified about the disturbance 
and pleased with the sight. Mr. M. shared the 
same fate of being disturbed in his sleep, and 
having risen early, he gladly accepted my invita- 
tion of going out and inspecting the “Poultry 
fair,” as it is called. 

Returning from our devotional exercises of the 
morning, Mr. McCormick met us as we were 
entering the hotel and kindly took charge of Mr. 



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M. After a few minutes Mr. and Mrs. McCor- 
mick and their little family accompanied my old 
friend up stairs to my room. They all fell on 
their knees, asked for a blessing and thanking 
me, they all returned with the usual courtesy of 
reverence. After they had left, my old friend 
explained that the servant girl last evening had 
told the landlady that one of the gentlemen up 
stairs is either a Bishop or a priest of great digni- 
ty, and that Mrs. McCormick came down to 
him saying that she shared in the girl’s opinion. 
Therefore he begged him to favor him with the 
information, which he did, and brought the 
whole family to my room. Our breakfast 
(which did great credit to the house) was served 
in my private parlor, and the landlady insisted 
on dividing the honor of waiting on us with the 
very kind and attentive servant girl. Now we 
were ready to “do the city.” 

The several ruins extant of the former noble 
and flourishing ecclesiastical institutions attest 
the antiquity of this city. But the Mullingar of 
to-day, neither in its public buildings nor private 
houses, nor church edifices indicates its ancient 
history. All has the appearance of newness and 
a good share of solid prosperity. It has but one 
spacious and long business street — the very one 
on which the public fairs are held. It is quite a 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 243 

railroad center for the several roads branching to 
the north, east, west and south, and that, no 
doubt, adds greatly to its prosperity. His Lord- 
ship Dr. Nulty, Bishop of Meath, who resides 
here, had not returned from Belfast. The 
Catholic church is the finest and most spacious 
structure in the city, yet of no artistic merit. 
All the other churches are very plain and mod- 
est buildings for use and not for ornament; the 
same may be said of the other public buildings. 
The immediate surroundings of this city are not 
particularly interesting, but the landscape scen- 
ery along the railroad line from Armagh to Gal- 
way in its many variations is as beautiful and at 
times as grand as any we have seen in any coun- 
try. To this the lakes of Erne, of Oughter, of 
Sheelin, of Owel and of Ree, which form the 
brilliant mirrors of the scenery, contribute their 
full share. Although the mountains here are not 
towering in the sky and their summits rest not in 
the playful embrace of the bright clouds, nor 
are threatened by the convulsive fury of the dark 
thunder clouds, yet the grace and beauty which 
they reflect, the cheering verdure which envelops 
them, the floral profusion which perfumes the 
atmosphere, give the picture a charm seldom sur- 
passed. The imaginary ruin or ruins are not 
needed; the real, the beautiful and the grand old 



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ruins abound in the midst of these scenes; yes, if 
the artist is only faithful in the copy, the land- 
scape will be perfect and challenge admiration. 
The moors are abundant in the vicinity of these 
lakes, and the manufacture of turf seems to be an 
important business, judging from the many 
smaller and larger pyramids of turf all along the 
road. After the surface earth has been removed 
the first layer of turf soil is of a whitish color, 
the second a dark brown, but the third layer at a 
depth of six or ten feet is jet black and makes a 
very solid cake of turf of the best quality. In 
this section of the country the turf-making seems 
to be the business of women, who do the digging 
and wheeling, but the children pile them up for 
drying in the same way as fresh brick is piled up 
in America. 

Athlone is an interesting town on the railroad 
line, nearly evenly divided by the famous river 
Shannon, and near to lake Ree. The east half 
of the town is in the county Westmeath, the 
west half in the county Roscommon. It is said 
that the first bridge ever built in Ireland by 
Thorlough O’Connor, king of Connaught, in 
1140, was the one across the Shannon at Ath- 
lone. There are four Catholic churches in this 
town and several Protestant places of worship. 
The two so-called Protestant or Episcopalian 



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churches are under the protection of the govern- 
ment. The military barracks, the ordinance 
yard, the magazines, the armory and the hospital 
are important features in this town. 

Galway, perhaps on account of the line of 
ocean steamers established between it and the 
United States, had gained admission into my 
imagination as a large, thrifty and grand old city. 
It proved a great delusion and disappointment. 
In former centuries it was quite a maritime city, 
enjoyed an extensive foreign trade, especially 
with Spain. But all this is of the past, and the 
failure in establishing the ocean steamship line 
has extinguished the last ray of hope in its resur- 
rection, and what is worse, sunk the last 
“ Pound ” of spare capital. The trade of the city 
is carried on in a way to make a person fancy 
that those good people have entirely too much 
time on their hands, on the part of the seller as 
well as the buyer. The city is pretty evenly 
divided by the river Lorrib, leaving the west 
side a village called Claddagh, inhabited by a 
peculiar and primitive race of people. Standing 
at the front window of our hotel, Mr. M. seemed 
to be in solemn contemplation of some subject, 
which he finally revealed by the remark, “My, 
gracious! I did not know that they had Indians 
in this country.” He had accompanied His 



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Grace Dr. Purcell, of Cincinnati, to Cross village 
and saw the half-civilized Catholic Indians in our 
Diocese. Stepping up to him and looking out of 
the same window, I noticed that both the men 
and women of Claddagh in Galway dress and 
•appear exactly like Indians. 

We had been informed that about ten tons of 
salmon are annually taken out of the river Lorrib ; 
but I had not formed a remote idea of what 
I saw in this city every day. The whole of the 
river is literally packed with large fishes, not less 
than two feet long, and they stand so firm and 
solid that they cannot move either backward or 
forward, and it is but necessary to put your hand 
into the water, take a firm hold of one of those 
large and beautiful fish and throw it ashore. 
From this it is easy to infer that there is a heavy 
fine on the taking a salmon out of the river in 
this season. 

Calling on His Lordship Dr. McEvilly, the 
Bishop of Galway and coadjutor to His Grace 
Dr. McHale, Archbishop of Tuam, we received 
a wholesouled welcome. Dr. McEvilly having 
made excellent studies and finished the pre- 
scribed course with great credit, and being the 
esteemed president of the Ecclesiastical Semi- 
nary of Tuam, is a man of no ordinary erudition. 
He is acknowledged as one of the ripest scholars 



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of the Irish Hierarchy. He kindly invited us to 
dine with him and enjoy the pleasure of meeting 
all the priests of the city at the Palace. There 
are but four churches in the city and all of them 
very plain humble structures, and they are 
served by four parish priests and seven curates. 
The religious educational institutions, in particu- 
lar the Academy of the Sisters of Mercy, seem to 
be in a flourishing condition. The parochial 
schools, taught by the religious and supported by 
the government, were numerously attended, man- 
ifested good discipline and merited the praise of 
the reverend pastors. c. h. b. 



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XXXI. 



Limerick, Aug. 20, 1877. 

As soon as we entered the county Clare 
on our way to Ennis, the general aspect of 
things began to brighten. The northern por- 
tion of this county is rather hilly and rocky, but 
towards the center the land appears good and 
the cultivation of the same appeared as if the 
people had made up their minds to have a decent 
crop. 

The town of Ennis did not signify much in 
former years, but the railroad communication 
has given it new life, and such an impetus to 
trade that it leaves a happy impression on the 
stranger as a live place. The Catholic church, 
called the Bishop’s parish church, is a large, plain 
edifice; the Episcopalian parish church is only 
remarkable on account of the grand old ruins of 
the Franciscan abbey of 1240, which stand there 
as a solid testimony of the impious robbery of 
this property by Protestantism. 

But having passed from Clare into the county 
Limerick, the soil proves much richer, the coun- 

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“AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT.” 249 

try looks cheerful and the people seem to be 
more happy. 

My first experience in the city of Limerick 
was a little unpleasant. I inquired in vain for a 
covered cab, and was obliged to take a jaunting 
car for my visit to His Lordship’s Palace, two 
miles from the city. Rt. Rev. Dr. Butler not 
being in the palace nor in the city, I returned 
in the soaking rain and with an abominable coat 
of mud. We are informed that there are 44,000 
inhabitants in the city of Limerick, and having 
communication with the sea by the river Shan- 
non, its trade is lively, the display of commercial 
activity considerable, its harbor adorned with 
several large sailing vessels loading and unload- 
ing for home and foreign markets. The general 
impression of prosperity is confirmed by every- 
thing in and about the city. 

It is believed that the old cathedral of Limer- 
ick had been erected on the very ground on 
which the Palace of King O’Brien stood. It is a 
massive, heavy looking structure, moss clad and 
sadly in need of repairs, the square tower remain- 
ing without the intended sign of redemption as 
its summit crown. It has shared the fate of all 
the most valuable monuments of ancient Catholic 
zeal in this country, and remains to-day in the 
hands of the descendants of the sacrilegious rob- 



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bers. The new cathedral is in the extreme end 
of the city, called old town, and does not claim 
any architectural beauty, though a solid edifice. 

The church of the Redemptionist Fathers is 
the most imposing church edifice in the city, 
built of stone, large in size and located on the 
most prominent street. The new church of the 
Dominican Friars is much smaller than that of 
the Redemptionists, but it rivals it in beauty, and 
is also pleasantly situated. The Augustinian 
Friars have converted the old theater into a very 
good temporary church, and being centrally 
located, it proves quite desirable and convenient 
for the Catholics at home and the strangers visit- 
ing the city. The reverend Fathers of this 
ancient and venerable order received us with 
every possible courtesy, extended profuse kind- 
ness and one of the fathers was appointed our 
guide in making the rounds of inspection in and 
about the city. As Bishop Galberry had been a 
member of the Augustinian Friars before his 
appointment to the See of Hartford, Connecticut, 
and being still interested in the good and noble 
work of the order, he was a welcome guest in 
every monastery, and we had the pleasure of 
again meeting His Lordship here. He is accom- 
panies by the Rev. Thomas Synnott, a native of 
Ireland, but one of the worthy priests of the 



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diocese of Hartford, and truly a pleasant, agree- 
able and delightful traveling companion. This 
adds anew to the delight of our trip, and not a 
little to our enjoyment in Ireland. 

The weather continues charmingly pleasant 
and cool, though the incessant rains mar the 
enjoyment somewhat until the secret is revealed 
that a sound drenching in this country is not 
followed by a dangerous chill or a fearful cold, 
as it usually happens in America. To date we 
have had only one bright, clear day in this month 
and many of the other nineteen days were rainy 
from early morning till a late hour in the even- 
ing. The use of umbrellas is among the rare 
luxuries in Ireland, consequently it is not in use 
among the lower, seldom among the middle 
classes, and not frequently among the gentry and 
nobility. The females of the first order employ 
one of their skirts as a substitute, of the second 
class use the shawl or skirt for the same purpose, 
but the third and fourth substitute a peculiar 
water-proof cloak as a protection. This at once 
explained the oddity of very honorable Irish 
women in America, who create no little amuse- 
ment to the young and old by walking the streets 
in a thunder storm of a sweltering day with a 
blanket shawl or a winter cloak thrown oveihtheir 
heads. They imitate the gentry in the old 



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country. The heat being very moderate even in 
midsummer, the men wear pretty heavy clothing 
and in consequence do not heed an ordinary 
shower of rain, and those in better financial cir- 
cumstances are protected by robes of frieze, 
which effectively resist a pretty heavy storm of 
rain. 

Before parting with our esteemed American 
friends, we agreed to meet them again on St. 
Augustine’s feast (August 28) in the city of 
Cork, and join in the celebration of the feast with 
the Augustinian Friars. c. H. b. 



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XXXII. 



Cork, Aug. 24, 1877. 

You may recollect the story of His Grace the 
Archbishop of Cincinnati, who was chosen an 
arbiter between a mother and her son. The 
son had engaged himself to marry an estimable 
young lady, and informing his mother of his 
intention, she vehemently objected to such a step. 
The young man, having exhausted his arguments 
without satisfying his mother in the least, sug- 
gested to go to the Archbishop and that they 
both should abide by his decision. Both being 
seated in the parlor of His Grace, the mother 
advanced the several reasons for her objections 
to the marriage of her son to the young lady in 
question, clinching all in the following words: 

“And, My Lord, what is worse than all, she is 
a bloody Corkonian ! ” 

As soon as His Grace had recovered from the 
shock he asked: 

“Well, my good woman, what do you think of 
me ? Do you think me a pretty good man ? ” 

She promptly replied, “Yes, My Lord, you are 
a good and holy man.” 

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“But, my good woman, I must inform you 
that I am a Corkonian ! ” 

This so calmed the mother that she unhesitat- 
ingly answered: 

“Then, My Lord, in the name of God, let 
them be married ! ” 

Here we are in the city of Cork, and as 
regards population, wealth and commerce it 
ranks second of all the cities in Ireland. It lies 
in the center of a valley, surrounded by hills of 
various, but moderate elevations and the scenery 
which environs it is as replete in variety as it is 
beautiful. The picturesque river Lee flows 
through the heart of the city, and is crossed by 
nine very fine bridges. 

His Lordship Dr. Delaney, Bishop of Cork, 
resides in a simple Palace on the banks of the 
river Lee, about three miles from the city. It is 
situated on a bluff of the river bank, command- 
ing a charming view of the surrounding country 
for several miles. I secured a cab and drove out 
to pay my respects to His Lordship, but did not 
find him at home. The beauty and grandeur of 
the scenery beheld from the summit of the hills 
over which we were driving was superb, the 
city in the valley, on both sides of the river looks 
cheerful and handsome, the whole makes a 
more pleasing and happy impression than any 



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city we have visited in Ireland. Our next drive 
was on the opposite side of the river for the 
purpose of seeing the Queen’s college. It is on 
the brow of a beautiful hill, the grounds sur- 
rounding it are tastefully arranged, the buildings 
are solid and artistic, and everything well calcu- 
lated to make the institution attractive. The 
views again spread out before us as we returned, 
were as delightful and charming as they had 
been from the other side of the river. 

His Lordship Dr. Delaney ha'd hastened to 
x return my call and was at the hotel on our 
return. He extended an invitation to dine with 
him at 5 p. m., which we accepted. 

We next enjoyed a walk through South Mall 
and St. Patrick street, and along the river Lee 
where the warehouses and wholesale business 
establishments are, and rejoiced in beholding 
everything so bright, that the conviction grew 
on us of the fair prosperity of the city, and the 
majority of its inhabitants. It is true, however, 
that in the suburbs and many of the minor streets 
and lanes, there is a sad evidence of poverty and 
an apparent wretched. disorder among the people. 

None of the public buildings in this city struck 
us as being of any architectural beauty, though 
several of them are somewhat imposing on 
account of their dimensions and massiveness. 



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266 * "AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 

By the advice of Rev. D. O’Meara, of Mobile, 
Ala., who is a native of this city, we took 
the train to Black Rock station, which is within 
a ten minute walk of the Episcopal palace, and 
were delighted, being introduced by His Lord- 
ship to the six priests invited to join us in the 
enjoyment of the dinner. One of the reverend 
gentlemen was the Vicar General, one the Dean, 
two were Canons and the other two parish 
priests. As it is customary, after dinner some 
speeches were indulged in, and I am happy in 
recording that Rt. Rev. Dr. Delaney is remark- 
ably felicitous in his extempore after-dinner 
speeches. Having spent a delightful evening in 
this charming clerical company, we boarded the 
10:15 train and arrived at a late hour at the 
“Royal Victoria.” 

Our first excursion was to the far-famed lakes 
of Killarney, which we greeted in a drenching 
shower. The railroad from Mallow to Killarney 
follows the valley, displaying a mountain scenery 
on the left which fills the traveler with ecstatic 
admiration. The heavy clouds now hovering 
over the summits of the mountains, now envelop- 
ing them in their angry embrace, now playfully 
sweeping over and exhibiting them to full view, 
seemed to sport in displaying nature’s grandeur. 
The town of Killarney indulges in only one prom- 



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-AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 257 

inent street, one respectable hotel and one plain 
stone structure, the Munster bank. The generality 
of residences and houses are very modest edifices, 
yet very solid, and, no doubt, comfortable. The 
lakes are from ten to fifteen minutes drive from 
the town, and the principal hotels are on their 
borders. Among the highly recommended was 
the “Royal Victoria,” which we selected, no 
doubt, in anticipation that it would compare 
favorably with the one of the same name in the 
city of Cork. In this we were soon undeceived, 
for we were informed by the landlord that the 
house is full, and that but one room in the third 
story could be spared for both of us. The rain 
continued to pour from the clouds, the omnibus 
had left, and we had not the courage to mount 
one of the several jaunting cars standing ready to 
carry passengers; hence, we concluded to accept 
the offer made and stay. The third story (gar- 
ret) room happened to face the lakes and we 
enjoyed the charming views spread out before 
us, from our windows for several hours. It was 
a succession of indescribable grandeur, and the 
variety in the majestic marvels of light and shade 
would have enraptured the artist and baffled his 
skill and genius. In particular, at the moment 
when a heavy, distant rolling of thunder directed 
our attention to the clouds as dark as midnight, 



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and seemingly not a hundred feet high, encircled 
the mountains, at times dividing and dissolving 
into a haze, which floated down to the foot of the 
mountain; at times the summit of one and the 
other would be lit up by the brilliant rays of the 
sun, whilst the enraged flashing of the lightning 
was spending its fury from the intense dark- 
ness which enveloped the other mountains. It 
seemed as if all the elements conspired in display- 
ing the magnificence of the picturesque scenery 
encompassing the lakes of Killarney. A person 
coming from the region of the great lakes bor- 
dering the shores of Michigan, and familiar with 
the thousands of inland lakes in the state, far 
more extensive in length, width and depth than 
these, sees nothing to admire in the insignificant 
expanse of water in the lakes of Killarney. The 
domains about the lakes belong to the Earl of 
Demesne, who has spent a fortune in laying and 
keeping in repair the splendid roads in every 
desirable direction to and from the lakes. The 
park on the western side of the lakes, in the 
centre of which is the palace of the Earl of 
Demesne, is a model of landscape gardening, a 
gem of beauty, and open for the enjoyment of 
visitors, together with the extensive deer park, 
in which several hundred of the “ Fleet-footed ” 
sport. They are divided into three distinct 



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lakes. The entire length is nine miles, and the 
greatest length three miles. They are dotted 
with forty-two small islands, which greatly add 
to their beauty. The driver of our car 
proved to be a man of original humor, and 
seemed supremely happy in entertaining us with 
the many “Munchhausen-like” adventures and 
the endless legions and ghastly stories in connec- 
tion with the lakes. As a token of his good will / 
he volunteered to drive us to the summit 
of the mountain on the opposite side of the lakes, 

“ from where yer honor will see the whole coun- 
try.” Here, sure enough, we made the dis- 
covery that the grand scenes, which we had 
admired for nearly forty miles along the railroad 
line to Killarney; and, from where we were now 
standing, continued some twenty miles more 
to Tralee, are a stupendous chain of mountains, 
sixty miles in length. 

On our return from the lakes, we stopped over 
in the town of Mallow, the birthplace of His 
Grace Dr. Purcell, Archbishop of Cincinnati, O. 

It is a town of about 5,000 inhabitants, situated 
on the romantic banks of the river Blackwater, 
which winds its course along the chain of 
mountains above mentioned. By name His 
Grace was known to everybody, his friends were 



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"AS THE BISHOP SAW fT." 



few, and of his relations, only one, a blacksmith, 
announced himself a cousin. 

I do not flatter myself having fairly introduced 
you to Cork or Killarney, yet I am obliged to 
conclude this letter, owing to the late hour of the 
night. c. H. b. 



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XXXIII. 



Cork, Aug. 38, 1877. 

Our excursion to the village of Blarney proved 
not the least interesting event. We had been 
informed of the disappointment of the many 
visitors in finding the castle and its grounds 
closed against all. On that account, I sent my 
card and note to the agent on the previous day, 
requesting the privilege of seeing the scene of 
many historical events, but did not receive an 
answer. It is a delightful drive of four miles, 
and we were resolved to see all we could of the 
famous place.- For that reason we turned off 
from the road to drive all around the castle 
grounds before coming to the front gate. We 
were amused to see our friends, Rt Rev. Dr. 
Galberry and Rev. Thomas Synnott, at the gate in 
the act of turning back disappointed. Alighting 
from the car and shaking hands with them, they 
told me that it would be simply useless to give 
myself the trouble of persuading the young 
woman who acted as gatekeeper. Notwithstand- 
ing this discouragement, I addressed the good 

woman, who politely favored me with the 

261 



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2*52 "AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 

expected refusal. She held a card in her hand, 
and eyeing it closely I discerned it to be the one 
I had sent to the agent. 

“ Pardon me, madam, whose card do you hold 
in your hand ? ” I asked, and she replied by the 
question : 

“ My Lord, is it your card ? ” 

Answering in the affirmative, she unlocked 
and swung open the massive gate, saying that we 
had full liberty to see the grounds and castle. 
Of course Bishop Galberry now belonged to our 
party and. he drove into the grounds. The well- 
preserved ruins of the ancient castle stand on an 
isolated limestone rock at the junction of the 
rivers Blarney and Comane. It was erected in 
the 15th century, as attested by the Latin 
inscription on the far-famed “Blarneystone.” 
This is on the northeast angle of the castle, about 
fifteen or twenty feet from the top of the building. 
It had been broken, the two pieces were held 
together by a heavy bar of iron. The stone 
stairway leading up to this stone of magic qual- 
ities is in a good state of preservation and we 
experienced no difficulty in ascending. But 
having reached the highest point, we were aston- 
ished to find the mystic stone entirely out of 
reach, and the oft repeated ceremony an impossi- 
bility. The proper salutes were made by one 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT." 



263 



and all, and we came down well satisfied, having 
“Kissed the veritable Blarney stone.” Beneath 
the castle there are several interesting caves, 
which we took pleasure in exploring, and the 
extensive and pretty laid-out groves, surrounding 
the new castle of Blarney having been surveyed, 
we took leave of the good woman in charge of 
them by the looked for gratuity of half a crown, 
for which she showered thousands of blessings on 
us. 

As we came back to the front gate, we were 
surprised by the disappearance of our jaunting 
cars, but the young woman stepped forward and 
pointed out an Inn a few rods distant, to which 
they had gone to feed the horses. We expressed 
our gratitude to this woman by giving her a half 
crown piece, for which she, too, favored us with 
many blessings. Coming to the inn the young 
landlady, dressed in Sunday attire, met us at the 
door, conducted us up stairs and begged us to be 
seated at a table sumptuously supplied with 
refreshments. Our driver had learned from the 
gate-keeper who we were, and was now at his 
best to do himself honor. Of course, we ordered 
suitable refreshments for him. Whilst we were 
resting and enjoying the excellent lunch, we 
heard some loud talking, and among other things 
our driver said: 



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“ Of course, you wouldn’t be let into the 
grounds with a lot of dirty preachers, but if you 
had gentlemen of high standing, as I have, you’d 
have no trouble getting in. Mike let us drink to 
the health of the gentlemen I’m driving.” 

The village of Blarney has but a small, poor- 
looking church, and numbers not quite 300 
inhabitants. 

The feast of St. Augustine, the patron saint of 
the Augustinian Friars was celebrated with great 
solemnity, His Lordship Dr. Delaney assisting in 
Pontifical robes. Dr. Galberry and I occupying 
seats in the sanctuary, surrounded by all the 
priests of the city. The convent chapel, as it is 
called, is a pretty handsome and large church, 
but on this occasion it could not accommodate 
half the people who desired to attend the 
services. 

The Bishops and priests were all invited to 
dinner at five o’clock in the monastery, which 
was a sumptuous affair, and did great honor to the 
Augustinian Friars. Vespers had been announced 
for 7:30 p. M., and, consequently, no speech 
making. 

We had the pleasure of meeting Messrs. Bar- 
rett, of Bay City, Mich.; Flattery and son, from 
Detroit, Mich., and Rev. F. O’Donoghue, C. M., 
in this city. Mr. Barrett met with an accident, 



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"AS THE BISHOP SA IV IT.'' 



' 265 



spraining his ankle, which seriously disappointed 
him in the pleasure he hoped to enjoy in becom- 
ing more extensively acquainted with his native 
country. One day he was walking along St. 
Patrick’s street, when His Lordship Dr. Delaney 
drove by in his carriage, and, very properly, he 
saluted the Bishop, who stopped his carriage and 
entered into a very pleasant conversation with 
him. On the following day His Lordship 
expressed his regret to me that my Vicar General 
had met with such a sad accident. This will 
amuse the Barrett family and friends in Bay City 
if they have the good luck to hear of the event. 

There is a pleasure steamer on the river Lee, 
which takes the excursionists every morning 
down through the various ramifications of the 
Cork harbor. We joined the party one fine 
morning at io o’clock and spent a delightful half- 
day in the enjoyment of the many charming 
scenes, the almost innumerable islands, the grand 
fortifications, the magnificent magazines and mil- 
itary storehouses, and the gloomy and isolated 
islands, the prison for great criminals which is 
called Spike island, and below the great island 
on which is Queenstown. The new cathedral, in 
course of completion, is a beautiful structure in 
the Gothic style and it seemed too large for all 
the inhabitants of Queenstown. They have 



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“AS THE BISHOP SA W IT." 



taxed the charity of both America, Australia and 
Ireland, for this church edifice, and it may be 
considered to be about half finished. From a 
business point of view this city would appear 
tolerably prosperous, yet poverty abounds, but 
the situation of the city with its romantic and 
picturesque surroundings is enchantingly beau- 
tiful. 

His Lordship Dr. Delaney has insisted on Rt. 
Rev. Dr. Galberry and myself, in company with 
our American friends, honoring him with our 
presence to-morrow at 5 o’clock at the farewell 
dinner which he proposes to give, and we could 
not refuse. 

We engaged our return passage on the “City 
of Berlin” a month in advance and the disap- 
pointment of Mr. J. F. and family in obtaining 
passage, proves our prudence to have been well 
exercised. 

In Queenstown on the “City of Berlin” we 
will meet Revs. S. and A. of our party, and from 
here Rt. Rev. Dr. Galberry, Revs. Synnott, 
O’Donoghue and O’Meara will accompany us on 
the morning of the 30th of August for Queens- 
town and our return home. Adieu ! c. H. b. 



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THE 



MEMOIRS 

OF THE LATE 

Rt. Rev. C. H. Borgess, D. D., 

WILL CONSIST OF 

FOUR VOLUMES. 



VOL. I. 

“As the Bishop Saw it.” 



VOL. II. 

Biography. 



VOL. III. 

Selected Sermons. 



VOL. IV. 

Pastoral Letters. 



The remaining volumes will be issued in due season. 

F. A. O’B. 



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